A Productive Day At The Figgis Agency
by Red Witch
Summary: Cyril tries to get his staff to be more productive. The only things they produce are more chaos and fires.
1. Productivity Is Not An Accident

**Somewhere there is a disclaimer saying that I don't own any Archer characters. More madness from my tiny little mind as I imagine…**

 **A Productive Day At The Figgis Agency**

 **Chapter 1: Productivity Is Not An Accident**

"Why do we need to have a stupid meeting first thing in the morning?" Pam groaned as the majority of the Figgis Agency assembled in the bullpen.

"Because I'd like to get **something** done before Ms. Archer comes in and bitches at us about how lazy we are!" Cyril snapped. "Look I am more than aware that this office hasn't exactly been as busy as it should be."

"Wait," Cheryl blinked. "We're supposed to be **busy?"**

"First I'm hearing about this," Krieger remarked.

"We haven't exactly set the investigative world on fire," Cyril admitted with a sigh.

"We've set a lot of **other things** on fire!" Cheryl said cheerfully.

"Well that is going to change **now**!" Cyril snapped. "Because if we don't turn things around we won't have an agency by the end of the year!"

"Honestly, I'm amazed we lasted **this long** ," Pam remarked.

"Me too," Ray nodded.

"I am aware of what little money we **do** manage to get," Cyril paused. "Goes down the drain faster than…"

"Pills and vomit after a night of binging," Cheryl added.

"What she said," Pam agreed.

"Remember," Cyril said. "Productivity is **not** an accident!"

"Wanna bet?" Ray quipped.

"Look we are going to have a productive day around here if it **kills** somebody," Cyril remarked.

"Probably you," Pam quipped.

"Ha, ha, ha…" Cyril glared at Pam. "Item one. Cleaning the refrigerator. Pam, you and Krieger are in charge of **that!"**

"WHAT?" Pam snapped.

"Aw man…" Krieger groaned.

"About time," Cheryl yawned.

"Yeah it reeks in there," Ray winced. "Like a skunk family reunion."

"That refrigerator should have been cleaned a long time ago," Lana agreed.

"I think there's a freaking ecosystem in there," Ray remarked. "Seriously yesterday I saw some kind of green stuff and something else was grazing on it!"

"That's nothing," Cheryl said. "I put a soda in there and I'm pretty sure I saw something drink it."

"Why do **we** have to clean the refrigerator?" Pam snapped.

"Because you and Krieger are the ones that put the weirdest shit in it!" Cyril snapped.

"Oh dear God," Ray realized. "You didn't **actually** put shit in it, did you?"

"Uh…" Krieger coughed. "Depends on your definition of…"

"I withdraw the question!" Ray snapped. "I am so out of here!"

"Me too," Lana got up with Ray and they left.

"But I didn't assign you two…" Cyril began. "Oh, never mind! Forget it!"

"Forget what?" Mallory asked as she walked in. "This new thing called **work?** Quelle surprise!"

"I gave the job of cleaning the refrigerator to Laurel and Hardy," Cyril sighed.

"You mean Dr. Rests on His Laurels and Ms. Hardly Ever Misses a Meal?" Mallory sighed.

"Good one," Cyril told her. "But Heckle and Jeckle ran to their offices before I could give them something to do."

"Those two are relatively responsible. And by relatively, I mean they don't purposely set fires," Mallory waved. "I'm sure they can find some quiet office work or something. Unlike **this one!"** She glared at Cheryl.

"What?" Cheryl blinked. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" Cyril snapped. "You never do **anything** around here!"

"I do things!" Cheryl snapped.

"Having sex with your co-workers doesn't count," Mallory looked at her.

"I do **other things** ," Cheryl added.

"Neither does setting fires and making a mess," Mallory added.

"I do lots of stuff around here!" Cheryl snapped. "All the time!"

RING! RING! RING!

Cheryl just sat there as the desk phone rang. "Could somebody answer the phone?" Cheryl shouted. "It's really annoying!"

RING! RING! RING!

" **I'll** get it!" Ray stormed over and answered it. "Figgis Agency. Ray Gillette speaking. How may I…? No, we don't want to convert to solar power! Wait, **do** we?"

"NO!" Mallory and Cyril shouted.

"NO!" Ray snapped as he slammed the phone down.

"God those telemarketers are soooo annoying," Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Infuriating," Mallory glared at Cheryl.

"I'm guessing you want me to answer the phones all day?" Ray asked.

"Only if I want our agency to sound like Hooterville's Post Office!" Mallory snapped.

"FINE!" Ray snapped. "Don't say I never volunteer for **anything** around here!" He stormed off.

"Well I can't answer the phone," Cyril said. "I have to balance the budget and pay some bills. Maybe Lana…?"

"Noooooooooooooope!" Lana was heard shouting.

"Okay not Lana," Cyril sighed.

"Just don't answer the phone," Cheryl shrugged. "Ignore it. That's what I do."

"In other words, you do **nothing** around here!" Cyril snapped. "I have seen rocks more productive than you!"

"Even **Milton** is more productive than you!" Mallory shouted. "At least Milton **makes** something! The only thing you've ever made was **carbon dioxide**!"

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Cheryl asked.

"I want you to do **something productive** for the agency!" Mallory shouted. "ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE!"

"And **your** definition of productive is…?" Cheryl blinked.

"Anything that makes us money," Mallory snarled.

"Oh. Okay…" Cheryl nodded. She took out her phone.

"What are you **doing**?" Cyril asked.

"Going online for California's unclaimed properties auction site," Cheryl said casually. "Cross reference buildings closest to us in a three-mile radius…AH! Here we go."

"Okay how is **that** …?" Cyril blinked.

"Here we go," Cheryl remarked. "349 Venus Ave. That's just on the other block from here. And no bids for the property which means it must be a real dump. One dollar."

"Wait you can buy property from the government for as little **as a dollar?"** Mallory shouted.

"Not always," Cheryl shrugged. "Depends on who else is interested. Looks like no one is. And my bid has been accepted! Yes! Now I just have to go get the deed and insure it."

"Carol what exactly are you doing?" Mallory snapped as Cheryl got up and started to leave.

"I'm going to get money for the agency," Cheryl said. "I'll be back later!" She left the building.

"Huh," Cyril thought. "Technically buying real estate is productive."

"How is Carol buying some dump she's never seen before different than what **I did?"** Mallory snapped.

"In order," Cyril counted off. "She used her **own money** , not the agency's. She **paid** less. She bought it from **a government agency** instead of on a fake real estate website. Or a scam artist. She **knows** it's a dump and didn't pretend otherwise."

"If it's such a dump why is she bothering to insure it?" Mallory snapped.

It hit them both at the same time. "So she can collect money on the **insurance!** " They both said.

"She has done that before," Cyril groaned. "And then like before have us do some phony paperwork saying that we inspected the site for arson and…"

"And she'll pay the office a check for it," Mallory realized. "Huh. For Carol that is pretty smart."

"That's pretty smart for a member of the Gambino family," Cyril quipped.

"You have no problem with some slight insurance fraud now?" Mallory asked.

"Honestly Mallory," Cyril sighed. "It gets her out of the office and out of my hair."

"Yeah, I don't really care either," Mallory sighed.

Cyril sighed "The only thing I do care about is who is going to answer the phone?"

" **I'll** do it!" Mallory snapped. "How hard can it be?"

Meanwhile…

"No, it's not that hard," Lana told Ray in her office. She was sitting at her desk working at her computer. "Honestly getting another degree online might be the best way to go."

"Especially if and when things go south," Ray nodded. "How did you come up with that?"

"Remember when Cheryl had her imaginary ostrich relapse?" Lana asked. "I decided it might not be a bad idea to see if I could do something else with my life besides watching that."

"Not the worst idea anyone has ever had," Ray admitted.

"Originally, I was going to try and go back to environmental sciences," Lana shrugged. "Then I realized I hated doing that. I looked around and I found an online business college that's perfect for me."

"Really? Business?" Ray asked.

"I figured how hard could it be to get a degree in it?" Lana asked. "I mean Cyril did it. He runs this business. And Mallory ran an agency without any business degree whatsoever!"

"You know those two aren't exactly the best examples of how a business should be run, right?" Ray asked.

"That's my point Ray," Lana said. "If those two complete and total train wrecks can do it, then how hard would it be for me to get a degree? At the very least it's something to add to my resume."

"You do realize that more than half the things on our resume are illegal, right?" Ray asked.

"That's why I'm getting a business degree," Lana said. "From Peacock University."

"I've heard of that," Ray admitted. "In fact, I've taken a few online classes there myself. I'm taking an online bartending course with Krieger."

"Online bartending course," Lana blinked. "How does _that_ work?"

"It's basically a bunch of recipes and a few videos on taking away keys from people who've had too much to drink," Ray admitted. "On the upside, I have learned some new interesting drinks. And Krieger…Well I don't know exactly how much he's retained but it's kept him from making more robots so…"

"That alone makes it worth it," Lana said. She showed him her computer. "But look at this. This university gives you credit for real life experience. So, you only have to pay for the classes you need. You just take a short test to prove your proficiency in each subject and…"

"Wait, one of the credits is learning **another language**?" Ray asked. "I know German!"

"Exactly!" Lana told him. "I used French as my language. And I got a credit. And these online classes are pretty easy. I figure I can get my degree in less than a year."

"How are you **paying** for these classes?" Ray asked.

"Uh," Lana coughed. "I'm not that proud of this but I've been kind of skimming some money secretly from Mallory's account."

"Me too," Ray admitted. "I mean her password is Duchess. Not that hard to crack."

"Plus, it also gives me something productive to do during the day," Lana sighed. "And again screwing Mallory so…"

"I'm in," Ray said.

Meanwhile…

"Are you in?" Pam asked as she drank some beer.

"Of course, I'm in there," Krieger snapped as he was cleaning the refrigerator. He was wearing a hazmat suit complete with gas mask. "I don't see why I have to do most of the work!"

"Because I'm not the one who put radioactive shit in it!" Pam snapped.

"That's debatable," Krieger grumbled.

"Hey!" Pam snapped. "That Super Duper Bombastic Burrito from the Burrito Barn was a good deal and I wasn't going to let it go to waste."

"Pam that was _two months_ ago," Krieger groaned. "Spoiler alert! It went to waste! Because it **spoiled!"**

"Not necessarily," Pam said. "It might still be good!"

"I highly…" Krieger rolled his eyes.

BRRRORRWRRRPPP!

"Pam," Krieger gulped. "Please tell me that was your stomach."

"I thought it was yours."

"Nope," Krieger gulped. "Then it definitely came from inside the refrigerator…Oh dear."

"What?" Pam asked.

"I think some of my containers may have accidentally sprung a leak," Krieger winced. "Causing a chain reaction."

"I told you!" Pam snapped. "You can't store chemicals in Tupperware!"

BRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOP!

"We really should have cleaned the refrigerator before this," Pam sighed. "Wow…I do see green mold in there. Or something green. Looks like tiny grass…"

"That's not all I see…" Krieger realized.

BRRRRRRRRRRRROPPP!

"Dear God…" Krieger gulped. "Pam your burrito…It's **moving!** "

Meanwhile…

"Okay…" Cyril looked at his paperwork. "Time to get moving. I've done my crossword. Read the paper. Sharpened my pencils. And my backup pencils. It's time to do some paperwork and pay the bills."

"Right after I check my e-mail," Cyril went to his computer. "Spam. Spam. Spam. Spam. Spam. Spam. Spam. Spam. _Lovely spam. Wonderful spam! Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!_ Ha ha! I am so funny…It's a shame not too many people around here get my sense of humor."

"Oh, here's some new porn from my prescription package. I don't have time for that. Too much work to do. Even to watch something called…Game of Moans. Huh. Well I suppose I could take a look at it for a few minutes. What's the harm?"

Meanwhile…

Mallory was sitting at Cheryl's desk with a bottle of scotch and a glass. "Thank God Trudy Beekman isn't here to see this," Mallory grumbled. "Taking calls like a secretary. Now I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"In hindsight maybe I should have just let Gillette do this? Not like callers wouldn't have mistaken him for a woman anyway."

She took a sip from her glass. "I never realized how boring this job is. Waiting for a phone call like some love-struck teenager. Only the love has been replaced by mind numbing boredom!"

"I wonder if this is why Carol sniffs glue? I mean I get the fact that you need to do **something** to keep you entertained…"

RING! RING!

"Finally!" Mallory picked up the phone. "What? Oh right. Archer Agency. Mallory Archer…"

"Well yes technically this is the Figgis Agency," Mallory admitted. "But we really should be called the Archer Agency. I mean I have spent a lifetime in espionage but for some stupid reason this idiotic state doesn't recognize that! Just because some spineless little nobody manages to get a few fancy degrees from college…Hello?"

"He hung up on me," Mallory blinked. "Huh. Must have been a crackpot of some kind."

Mallory sighed and sat at the desk. And drank. She sat some more. And drank some more. Then drank even more. And then even more.

"Oh yes I'm so glad I opened a detective agency," Mallory grumbled. "This job is absolutely **riveting**."

RING! RING!

"Finally," Mallory let out a breath and answered the phone. "Hello? Hello? Wait…Is this a damn recording? SERIOUSLY?"

She slammed the phone down. "Now telemarketers aren't even bothering to call you in person! And to think I actually thought that was worth picking up!"

"I wonder if this thing has caller ID?" Mallory looked at the phone. "Damn it. I can't tell."

Meanwhile…

"I can't tell if this thing has eyes or what…" Krieger used a device to scan the creature inside the refrigerator. "But it definitely has a mouth."

"How do you know that?" Pam asked.

"Because it just ate the leftover Chinese food," Krieger told her.

"BURRRRRP!"

"And now it's starting to drink the beer," Krieger added.

"WHAT?" Pam shouted.

Meanwhile…

"Well that was much better than I expected," Cyril looked strangely happy as he looked at his computer. There were tissues and hand sanitizer on his desk as well. "Oh look…Another new one…Scandal In The Supreme Court. Well I do love legal drama. And other things…"

Meanwhile…

"GIVE IT BACK!" Pam screamed as she tried to yank a beer away from something in the refrigerator. "GIVE IT BACK DAMN IT!"

"I think we're going to need more than Lysol and some baking soda to clean this refrigerator," Krieger blinked.

"YOU THINK?" Pam shouted. "GIVE ME BACK MY BEER!"

Meanwhile…

"Hello is this the Anderson Insurance Agency?" Mallory was on the phone. "I am Mallory Archer. Calling for the Figgis Agency. Soon to be renamed the Archer Agency. I'm calling to see if there's any work you need and if you are aware of our services…"

Mallory paused. "Oh, you have heard of us? Yes, we uncovered the Long Water scandal. What did you say? That idiot whoremonger is my **son,** you asshole! And he's in a coma! On second thought, I don't want your business! GOOD DAY!"

She slammed the phone down. "Well I never!" She looked at a phone book and put in another number. "Hello? Anderson and Anderson Law Firm? This is Mallory Archer from the Figgis Agency. Soon to be renamed Archer Agency."

"Well I'm calling to see if there is anything you need investigating," Mallory said. "I thought if I just called places instead of waiting around it would be a time saver. Look you people are **lawyers.** Odds are at least one of your clients is either being framed or needs to have a background check! I've seen TV."

"Hello? Hello? I can't believe they hung up on me! The **nerve** of these people!"

Mallory made another call. "Hello? Law firm of Anderson, Anderson, Anderson and…Schmitt. This is Mallory Archer from the Figgis Agency. First of all…How many Andersons **are** there? Seriously? Well wouldn't it be easier if you all just got together and put your name into **one firm** and…Hello?"

"I think I'll just skip the rest of the Andersons for now," Mallory looked through the phone book. "They seem like rude people anyway. Ah! Here we go!"

"Hello? Arliss Insurance Agency? This is Mallory Archer of the Figgis Agency. No! We are **not** interested in a new policy…Wait how did you hear about **that**? No, the point of this call is to see if you had any work for…Why are you **laughing**? WHAT? WE ARE NOT!"

"You wouldn't happen to be related to the damn Andersons? Hello?"

"I can't believe how **rude** some of these people are!" Mallory bristled. "Huh. No wonder Carol gets so snippy. And to think I thought this job was easy."

Meanwhile…

"Well this is pretty easy," Ray said. He had brought his laptop in Lana's office. "I've not only signed up for some business courses in addition to my bartending ones. But I'm also taking some criminal justice classes online."

"Yeah you told me you got an hour just for passing a class," Lana said. "I should have looked into that a long time ago."

"I love this just taking the test feature so you can pass the class," Ray said as he looked at a book next to him. He typed something in. "Done! All right! I have officially passed my Excel proficiency class. A few more credits earned for my degrees."

"You are cheating on a **proficiency test**?" Lana looked at him.

"I already know some Excel," Ray waved. "Enough to get by. Besides it's an online test. Technically it didn't say we couldn't use study materials."

"It's still cheating," Lana sniffed.

"Do **you** want to pay a couple hundred dollars for a course you don't really need or are barely going to use?" Ray snapped.

Lana paused. "Can I see that book when you're done?"

"Here you go," Ray gave it to her.

"AAAAAAHHHH!" Pam was heard screaming.

Lana and Ray looked out their door. Pam ran by screaming. Then she ran back carrying an axe. "THIS MEANS WAR!" Pam whooped. "FOR THE BEER!"

"PAM DAMN IT! BE QUIET!" Mallory shouted. "I'M ON THE PHONE! Hello? DAMN YOU PAM I LOST ANOTHER CALL!"

"THEY CAN TAKE OUR LIVES!" Pam whooped. "BUT THEY CANNOT TAKE OUR **BEER!** AAAAHHH!"

"Do you want to know…?" Ray blinked.

"Noooooope!" Lana sighed.

"Me neither…" Ray sighed. "I never want to know **anything** that goes on around here."

Meanwhile…

"You're still **here?** " Mallory grumbled as Schnuckiputzi sat on the desk. The cat responded by licking her behind.

Mallory groaned. "Why do I have the feeling you picked up that particular behavior from the people who work in this office?"

Meanwhile…

"Okay…" Cyril looked a little dazed. "Just one more porno…Just one more. Oh look. The Loin King. Five stars. And it's animated. Cartoons are fun…"

Meanwhile…

"THIS IS **NOT** **FUN!** " Krieger screamed as some strange green and brown tentacles attacked them from the refrigerator. "I HATE CLEANING THE REFRIGERATOR!"

"AAAAHH! DIE! DIE! DIE!" Pam whooped as she cut and fought the tentacles with her axe.

"I don't think this is getting us anywhere!" Krieger gulped as he hid behind a table. "Wait a minute…I'll be right back!"

"Hurry up!" Pam shouted as she hacked and slashed at the creature.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" Krieger ran to his lab.

Meanwhile…

"I can't believe they have a degree in Security Services Theory," Lana blinked as she looked at her computer. "That's a **thing?"**

"It is," Ray said. "Okay that's another degree we can work on."

"We already know most of this stuff," Lana said. "Being former spies. We just have to pass most of the proficiency tests and take a few more classes. Which are basically watching a few videos and passing a quiz on them."

"And it says if we get a degree it counts towards an hour for a Private Eye license," Ray read. "To be fair that's pretty much how long it will take for us to earn it."

"This is pretty much the future of college, isn't it?" Lana remarked.

"Boy those Frat Movies aren't going to be the same, are they?" Ray snorted.

"DIE REFRIGERATOR DIE!" Pam's voice was heard.

"I have a feeling neither will our refrigerator," Lana groaned. "Do you smell smoke?"

Meanwhile…

"AAAAHHHH!" Krieger screamed as he and Pam used flamethrowers to kill and destroy the monster in the refrigerator.

"DIE YOU BASTARD!" Pam screamed.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Damn it," Krieger groaned as the explosion knocked them backwards. "There must have been some beers in the fridge."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Pam screamed. "WE BLEW IT ALL UP! DAMN US ALL TO HELL!"

Cut to Mallory back at the desk. "I don't want to know…I just **don't** want to know."

A few hours later Cyril finally emerged from his office. "Oh look," Mallory sighed. "It's Mr. Productive."

"Well I did things," Cyril said calmly. "Productive day on my end. How about you?"

"I hate to say it," Mallory grumbled as she took a drink. "But I'm starting to see Carol's point about not answering the phones."

RING! RING! RING!

"I'm not getting that," Mallory finished up her drink.

"Hard day?" Cyril asked as the phone rang.

"Don't get me **started** ," Mallory groaned. "By the way am I the only one who smells smoke?"

"No," Cyril answered the phone. "Figgis Agency…Speaking of which. Hang on Cheryl I'll put you on speaker phone." He did so. "Cheryl how's it going?"

"Not good," Cheryl was heard. "I don't think we're gonna make any money off of my plan this time."

"What happened?" Mallory groaned. "Don't tell me you got caught?"

"I didn't get a **chance** to get caught," Cheryl grumbled as she looked at the burned down property before her. "Somebody beat me to it."

"What do you mean?" Mallory asked.

"Somebody already burned down the place before I got a chance to!" Cheryl snapped. "I wonder if that's the reason it only sold for a dollar?"

"Of course…" Mallory sighed. "For a minute I actually thought one of **Carol's plans** would work. Stupid me."

"I mean whoever did this did a really good job," Cheryl looked at the wreckage. "It smells like charred meats."

"Oh my God!" Cyril remembered. "The Hot Dog Cart Incident!"

"What?" Mallory asked.

"Oh yeah," Cheryl giggled. "Those flaming wieners exploded everywhere. Hey! I think I see one of them in the rubble!"

"That's not all I see in the rubble," Cyril sighed. "Our careers for one thing."

"What are we going to do with an empty burned out lot?" Mallory snapped.

"The way our careers are going we may have to live there soon," Cyril moaned.

"Hey wait a minute!" Cheryl gasped. "I know just what to do! I can turn this into a parking lot and charge people to park here! I'll make a fortune!"

"What about us?" Cyril asked.

"What **about** you?" Cheryl asked. "Gotta call my construction company and lawyers! See ya!"

"Carol! Carol!" Mallory shouted. "Dumb little bitch hung up on us!"

"That bitch is going to make a fortune off an empty lot!" Cyril snapped. "Something tells me Cheryl isn't **that dumb**!"

"Neither am I!" Mallory grabbed her purse and stood up. "I'm out of here! I'm going to visit Sterling!"

"You're leaving to visit Archer **now?"** Cyril snapped. "It's only noon!"

"Good point," Mallory paused. "I'm going out for lunch first to keep my strength up." She left the building.

"Does anybody around here have **any kind** of work ethic at all?" Cyril shouted.

Schnuckiputzi walked by. Meowed and started licking her behind. "Oh sure," Cyril glared at the cat. "Rub it in!"

"Does that count as phrasing?" Lana asked as she and Ray walked up to Cyril with some papers.

"Please tell me you two did **something** productive today?" Cyril sighed. "I ask knowing not to get my hopes up."

Lana and Ray presented Cyril with some papers. Ray told him. "We just earned an hour towards our PI licenses."

"With a degree in Security Services Theory," Lana added. "Yes, that's a thing."

"Peacock University?" Cyril blinked. "You two spent your morning getting a degree **online?** "

"It was surprisingly easy," Ray shrugged. "Well with our spy background."

"And a payment of four hundred dollars total to the university," Lana admitted.

"Wait hang on," Cyril did a double take. "Are you telling me you just took some online tests…"

"And watched a few videos," Ray added.

"And watched some videos," Cyril went on. "And that's it? Is that **legal?** "

"It is in California," Ray told him. "And thirty-seven other states so yes. This counts."

"You two spent your morning screwing around…?" Cyril snapped.

"Correction," Ray pointed out. "We were increasing our skills to become more productive members of the agency."

"What did **you** do all morning?" Lana asked.

"Stuff!" Cyril protested. "I did **stuff!** Productive stuff! Bill stuff! Office stuff! Important stuff."

"You watched porn the entire time, didn't you?" Ray sighed.

"No! NO!" Cyril protested. "Not **the entire time**! I also did a crossword puzzle."

"Did that sound better in your head or…?" Lana asked.

"Okay fine," Cyril sighed as he took the papers. "Even online credentials are better than…Wait. How did you two **pay** for this?"

"Uh…" Lana and Ray looked at each other.

"You took money from the agency, didn't you?" Cyril groaned.

"Technically from Mallory's account," Lana coughed.

"It's not like she was going to use it for something other than buying alcohol!" Ray protested.

"Yeah that's fair," Cyril sighed. "Fine you two earned an…What's that smell?"

Krieger and Pam walked out. Their clothes were torn and slightly scorched. And they were holding the flamethrowers. "Okay the refrigerator is sanitized of all life forms," Krieger coughed. "Technically."

"Kind of like a scorched earth policy," Pam admitted.

"Oh no…" Lana winced. "You didn't!"

"No, no, no…" Cyril ran to look at the break room. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"You did," Ray sighed. They all went to look.

The refrigerator was chopped up and burned out. There was water everywhere as well as foam. "On the up side," Pam spoke up. "We also cleaned the break room. Technically. I mean when water and foam go all over the place that's got to make stuff clean right?"

"Oohhhhhhh," Cyril made a whimpering noise of pain at the sight.

"I take it this means we're going out to eat for lunch?" Ray asked.

"That would be advisable yes," Krieger nodded. "Also, don't bring back any leftovers."

"Wasn't planning to," Lana sighed.

"We need to get a new refrigerator," Pam said. "That's something productive we can do for the rest of the day!"

"I could always make a new refrigerator!" Krieger said cheerfully.

"You mean like how you made a new toaster for the office?" Ray snapped.

Just then Milton zoomed by and popped out some toast. "Pass…" Cyril sighed as he staggered towards the bar.

"Still think productivity isn't an accident huh?" Ray asked Cyril.

"Obviously not in **this office** ," Cyril groaned as he picked up a bottle of scotch. "And neither is lack of sobriety."


	2. Lunch At Pita Margarita's

**Lunch At Pita Margaritas**

"I can't believe you set the refrigerator on fire," Cyril moaned as he sat at a booth at Pita Margarita's. "I can't _believe_ you set the **refrigerator** on **fire.** Oh wait. YES, I CAN!"

"Cyril, we didn't have a choice," Pam told him. She and Krieger had changed clothes. They were sitting in the large booth with Ray and Lana.

"We couldn't let that lifeform run amok," Krieger nodded.

"A lifeform made out of radioactive material…" Ray was stunned. "And Pam's **burrito?"**

"Okay even for us that's pretty weird," Lana groaned.

"Look we didn't make that big a mess," Krieger said. "Between all of us pitching together, Ray's super speed and some surprisingly absorbent paper towels we got the break room cleaned in no time at all!"

"You set…" Cyril glared at them. "The refrigerator. ON FIRE!"

"Well yes," Krieger shrugged. "If you're going to nitpick…"

"Cyril let's just have a nice lunch," Lana suggested. "Then after that we'll go get a new refrigerator."

"And a new coffee pot," Pam added. Everyone looked at her. "What? The old one kind of got smashed with some debris."

"When you set the refrigerator **on fire** ," Cyril glared at her.

"Technically not," Krieger corrected. "We set the mutated lifeform **in** the refrigerator on fire. The refrigerator just got caught up in the blaze. And resulting explosion."

"And how did that thing mutate in the _first place_?" Cyril snapped. "With a combination of Krieger's radioactive chemicals…Which should have been stored better I might add!"

"Told you using Tupperware was a bad idea," Ray said to Krieger.

"And Pam's burrito!" Cyril snapped.

"Okay…" Krieger conceded. "When you put it like that…Yeah. **That** part of the incident we are responsible for."

"ALL THE PARTS YOU WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR!" Cyril shouted. "Because you set the refrigerator on **fire!** "

"You're just like a dog with a bone, aren't you?" Pam asked.

"You know it's not like they're **completely responsible** for what happened," Ray pointed out. "You are the one who assigned them the job of cleaning out the refrigerator in the first place."

"And spent most of the morning watching porn," Lana looked at Cyril.

"YEAH!" Pam nodded.

"Okay fine," Cyril looked at Ray and Lana. "Next time **you two** will clean the refrigerator! In fact, maybe that should be **your permanent job** from now on?"

Lana and Ray looked at each other. Then they looked at Ray and Krieger.

"How could you set the refrigerator **on fire**?" Ray snapped at them.

"Can't you two idiots do **anything** right?" Lana added.

"You don't use a flamethrower to clean a refrigerator!" Ray snapped.

"Did it even **occur** to you two to use Lysol?" Lana added. "You didn't have to set the refrigerator on fire!"

"Worse," Ray added. "They set the _alcohol_ in the refrigerator on fire! We're lucky the whole building is still standing!"

"Oh sure," Pam looked at Cyril. "Use peer pressure."

"Technically the creature drank all the alcohol so…" Krieger fidgeted.

"And that makes it **better?** " Ray snapped.

"You made that monstrosity in the first place!" Lana added.

"And then you set fire to the refrigerator," Cyril added.

"How long are you gonna whine about that?" Pam snapped.

"At least until we get another refrigerator!" Cyril snapped. "Which by the way, the payment is coming out of your salaries!"

"We get paid?" Krieger blinked.

"Trust me, Cyril will make us pay one way or another," Pam groaned. "Just for a little mistake."

"You think a **fire** is a _little mistake_?" Ray quipped. "I think you've been hanging around Cheryl too long."

Pam paused. "You may have a point."

"Look," Lana sighed. "We'll get another refrigerator after lunch. Then after that I never want to hear about this again."

"You mean how you and Ray were taking some online classes using the agency's money?" Cyril snapped.

"At least we weren't watching **porn**!" Lana bristled.

"Or setting **fires!"** Ray added.

"It was just a **little fire** ," Pam waved. "Okay yes. I heard myself say that. I agree. I may have been hanging around Cheryl too long."

"You think?" Ray raised an eyebrow.

"Yoo hoo!" Cheryl's voice was heard.

"Speak of the little fire demon," Lana grumbled.

"That's kind of a redundant phrase," Pam told her. "Demons are fire creatures so…"

"What about ice demons?" Cyril asked. "Or smog demons?"

"Well obviously those _different types_ of demons you would have to identify them," Pam admitted. "I'll give you that. But regular demons are inherently fire creatures so…"

"That's not necessarily true," Cheryl walked up to them. "A lot of demons are described as spirits of malevolence. Not necessarily made up of or able to use fire. I mean a lot of them come from Hell and since Hell itself is considered to be full of fire a lot of people make that mistake. But there are thousands of varieties of demons and not all of them have anything to do with fire."

"How do you know that?" Lana asked as Cheryl sat down.

"My crazy great grandmother was really into all that fire and brimstone stuff," Cheryl explained. "Said if we didn't do everything right we would go to Hell. And get tortured for all eternity and yada, yada, yada."

"Really?" Cyril blinked.

"Then Great Grandfather would say that the real Hell was being married to her," Cheryl added. "And that eternity with demons sounded like a picnic compared to her. Then they'd fight. Well I don't remember them fighting that often because Great Grandfather died then Great Grandmother like a year later. Everybody really loved her funeral. A lot of laughing and drinking and burning her stuff."

"Uh huh…" Lana said.

"The real irony is that she probably did go to Hell herself," Cheryl remarked. "Considering all the stuff she used to do. Especially to her slaves. You know? Way back when slavery was legal. Some of that was too freaky deeky even for me."

"I don't think I want to know," Lana winced.

"Trust me," Cheryl shuddered. "You **don't.** "

"So where were you all morning again?" Ray decided to change the direction of the conversation.

"I was supposed to set this building on fire for the insurance," Cheryl sighed. "But it turns out we already burned it down with the whole Hot Dog Cart Incident thing. Which really bummed me out because I wasn't able to burn anything. I decided to turn it into a parking lot and charge people through the roof for parking and make a ton of money. I've got my company's construction crew working on it as we speak."

"So much of that is so wrong…" Lana sighed. "So, so wrong."

"Did I miss something?" Cheryl asked.

"Why don't you tell Cheryl what you two idiots did?" Cyril looked at Krieger and Pam.

"Why don't **you** tell her?" Pam snapped. "You've been **talking** about it **nonstop** since it happened!"

"How you set the refrigerator on fire?" Cyril snapped.

"Just like that," Pam rolled her eyes.

"You set the _refrigerator_ on fire?" Cheryl gasped. "Aw man! I always miss the good stuff!"

"To be fair we thought you were going to set a **building** on fire," Cyril gave her a look.

"That's true," Cheryl sighed. "A building on fire is much more fun than setting a refrigerator on fire. More chances to hear terrified screams. Unless of course you lock a person inside the refrigerator…"

"Okay let's talk about **something else**!" Cyril groaned. " _Anything_ else!"

"Sure you don't want to talk about how me and Krieger set the refrigerator on fire some more?" Pam asked sarcastically.

"Really?" Cyril snapped. "You're taking **that tone** with me? Seriously?"

"Cyril make like Elsa and **let it go!"** Ray snapped.

"Where the hell is that waitress with our drinks?" Lana looked around.

"We ordered a little bit of everything," Krieger told Cheryl.

"Including a big ass pitcher of Margaritas," Pam added. "And if we don't get it, I am going to be seriously annoyed."

"What are you going to do?" Cyril snapped. "Set their refrigerator on fire?"

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Pam snapped. "Are you trying to get back at me for something I don't even know I did?"

"I **know** what you did!" Cyril snapped. "YOU SET THE REFRIGERATOR ON FIRE!"

"Give it a rest Judge Judy!" Pam snapped.

"And here come the drinks!" Lana breathed a sigh of relief as some large pitchers were brought to the table.

"Yeah, get these two liquored up," Ray quipped. " **That** will make everything better!"

"I kind of see why Ms. Archer doesn't want to eat with us sometimes," Krieger admitted.

"Okay!" Pam threw up her hands. "I'm **sorry** we set the refrigerator on fire! What more do you want from me?"

"Not to set any more refrigerators on fire for a start!" Cyril snapped.

"Lame!" Cheryl pouted.

"It was drinking all my beer!" Pam snapped. "And I think it ate some of your groovy bears!"

"Oh well then you should have set the creature on fire instead of the refrigerator," Cheryl said.

"That's what we were **trying** to do!" Pam snapped. "But that thing was so big…"

"Phrasing! Boom!" Cheryl quipped.

" _Sometimes?"_ Lana gave Krieger a look.

"Can we just get off this topic and have a drink?" Ray sighed as he poured himself drink. "We needed a new refrigerator anyway."

"We'll get a better refrigerator," Krieger agreed. "One that you can get water from on the door."

"Screw the water," Cheryl said. "Let's get one that dispenses vodka!"

"Even better," Krieger agreed as he took a drink.

"All I wanted was to get something accomplished today," Cyril groaned.

"Maybe you shouldn't be watching porn at work?" Pam snipped.

"Maybe **you s** houldn't set refrigerators **on fire** at work?" Cyril snapped back.

"WILL YOU TWO **CAN IT?"** Lana snapped. "Okay as of now, **no more** refrigerator talk! Until we actually go buy the damn refrigerator! **After** lunch! Got it?"

"Okay Jesus!" Pam groaned. "We **get it**!"

"Fine!" Cyril grumbled. "I so get why Ms. Archer never wants to eat with us."

"Yeah," Pam agreed as she took a drink. "She's probably living it up in some hoity toity restaurant with her fancy salad made up of watercress or something."

Meanwhile at a fancy restaurant somewhere in LA…

"HOW DARE YOU?" Mallory Archer shouted as she was shoved out the door. "WHAT KIND OF IDIOT ESTABLISHMENT CHECKS A PERSON'S CREDIT CARD BEFORE THEY ORDER! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"

"A deadbeat?" Someone called out.

"THAT'S IT!" Mallory shouted. "You just got on my hit list mister! You hear me? Don't be surprised if this restaurant burns down in the future!"

"Someone call the cops!" Someone else shouted.

"Leaving!" Mallory left quickly.

Back to Pita Margaritas.

"You know even if this isn't the fanciest restaurant in the world," Ray remarked as he munched on a quesadilla. "They still have great food."

All the food had arrived at the table and everyone was partaking from nachos to tacos to other types of Mexican foods. "Really good!" Cyril nodded. "Too bad we can't save any leftovers."

"Just not going to let it go, are you?" Pam groaned before she took a drink.

"Hang on," Lana remembered as she looked around. "Didn't this place burn down or something? Because of an illegal Pokémon game?"

"That was the Pita Margaritas on North Hollywood Ave," Krieger told her. "Not this one."

"Yeah it's like a huge chain now," Ray nodded.

"I miss the Pita Margaritas in New York," Pam sighed. "Especially their all you can eat nights. They don't have that here for some reason."

"Maybe someone from the New York restaurant called ahead to warn them about you?" Cheryl snickered.

Pam paused. "Well it wouldn't be the first time something like that happened."

"What?" Lana blinked.

Pam sighed. "The first time was this Dairy Queen that was in my hometown. They had this sundae eating contest and I won easily. Won a lifetime of free ice cream. Anytime I wanted any day I wanted I could get a free ice cream cone or sundae at the Dairy Queen. Within a year it went out of business."

"And I'm guessing you were banned from any type of contests after that?" Cyril asked.

"Pretty much yes," Pam shrugged. "Fortunately for me the ban didn't extend to the Quickie Freeze the next town over. That was kind of our local rip off of Dairy Queen. I won a lifetime of free cones the next eating contest they had."

"Let me just skip ahead here," Lana sighed. "Pam how long did it take before you were banned from eating contests in your state period?"

"I was able to go up to my senior year in high school," Pam nodded. "That's when I decided to go to college out of state."

"Smart move," Krieger nodded.

"There were other factors why I went to college in New York," Pam added. "I wanted to get a better education. To travel and broaden my horizons. To get away from my bitch sister. But yeah, to enter into other contests out of state that was the topper."

"Okay I know I am going to regret asking this question," Cyril sighed. "But I am going to ask it anyway. How did you transition from eating contests to underground street fighting to pay for college?"

"Do you have any idea how many eating contests are illegal?" Pam asked. "I decided to do both. Get free food and cash."

"Seriously?" Lana was stunned. "There's an underground eating competition circuit?"

"Why do you think I never participated in the Coney Island Hot Dog championships?" Pam snapped. "Even though I could eat onion rings around Joey Chestnut."

Cheryl remarked. "I always thought that they didn't have enough hot dogs for you."

"Me too," Ray admitted.

"You think the Boxing Commission is a pain in the ass," Pam grumbled. "Try getting blackballed by the Competitive Eating Commission."

"Did not know that was a thing," Lana blinked.

"Too bad," Krieger sighed. "That would be another way to make money around here."

"Speaking of money," Ray spoke up. "How are we going to pay for a new refrigerator?"

Cyril sighed. "Well if this was a TV show like in Cheryl's deranged imagination, we could always win a contest of some sort."

They looked around. "No contest to win anything," Ray drawled. "Surprise. Surprise. Surprise."

"You can't **always** use a contest conveniently happening just when you need it," Cheryl made an exacerbated sound. "That's just lazy writing. And too predictable. What we should do is come up with a plan to steal a new refrigerator!"

"We are not **stealing** a refrigerator!" Lana snapped. "I guess we're just going to have to dig deep to take it out of the budget."

"Said the woman who used stolen money to pay for online classes," Cyril gave her a look.

"To get certification for my job!" Lana snapped. "Besides Ray did it too!"

"Thanks a lot!" Ray snapped. "Besides it's not like we destroyed the refrigerator in the first place!"

"What is this?" Pam snapped. "Everybody Complain About Burning Refrigerators Day?"

"Is that **today**?" Cheryl looked around. "Damn it. Those holidays sneak up faster every year!"

"Look we'll just finish our lunch," Lana sighed getting tired of repeating herself. "Pam and Krieger will pay for that. Then we'll go get the refrigerator okay?"

"Why do **we** have to pay for lunch?" Pam snapped.

"Because you set the refrigerator on fire!" Cyril snapped.

"Unless you had one of those thousand dollar hamburgers in there," Pam gave him a look. "Made of Kobe beef and the bun is encrusted with gold flakes. I ain't paying."

"Me too," Krieger nodded. "Mostly because I don't have any money on me."

"You are paying for lunch and that's **final,"** Cyril snapped.

"Oh my God!" Pam shouted. "You are such a petty little bitch, you know that?"

"You set the refrigerator on fire!" Cyril snapped.

"That's all you've got!" Krieger snapped. "Change the record!"

"That's all I **need**!" Cyril snapped.

"I am not paying for lunch!" Pam snapped.

"Way to go Lana," Krieger looked at her. "You had to start this!"

"She burned down the refrigerator!" Lana protested.

"So?" Krieger snapped.

"So lunch is on you two!" Cyril snapped.

"No," Pam picked up some guacamole in her hand. "It's on **you!** "

"Pam don't you throw that!" Cyril ordered.

"Pam…" Lana warned.

Pam threw the guacamole. It hit Cyril and some got on Lana. "HA!"

"Damn it Pam!" Cyril snapped.

"My sweater dress!" Lana snapped. "Pam, you got guacamole stain on my sweater dress!"

"Oh please," Pam rolled her eyes. "You have at least fourteen of those in different colors!"

SPLAT!

"And you have huge fat mouth!" Cyril snapped as he threw guacamole at Pam. It hit her in the face.

"Okay hang on…" Ray cautioned as he recognized the look in Pam's eyes. "You got one and Cyril got one. It doesn't have to escalate…"

SPLAT!

Ray glared at Cheryl who had hit him with some guacamole. She was giggling. "Okay fine," Ray growled. **"Now** it's gonna escalate!"

Soon the table was a tornado of thrown foods. The Figgis Agency were throwing food at each other like crazy. And predictably…

SPLAT!

"Oh Dukes," Ray gulped as some big burly bikers that had food on them made their way to their table.

"Now you've done it!" Lana groaned at Pam.

"Oh sure," Pam grumbled. "Blame the victim!"

"Before I do something extremely violent to you people I'd like to know **why** are you having a food fight like a bunch of toddlers who just ate too much cake?" A red bearded biker glared at them. "Because my dry cleaner is going to want to know **why** I have a combination of food and blood stains on my jacket."

"They started it," Cyril pointed to Pam and Krieger.

" **You** started it!" Krieger snapped.

"You're the ones who started **throwing food**!" Cyril snapped.

"Because you're a dick!" Pam snapped.

"And why is he being a dick?" The red bearded biker asked.

"Because they set my refrigerator on fire!" Cyril pointed at Pam and Krieger.

"They set your refrigerator **on fire**?" The red bearded biker blinked. "Well they're at least paying for lunch, right?"

"WHAT?" Pam shouted.

"Thank you!" Cyril threw up his hands.

"It's common courtesy!" The red bearded biker said.

"Hang on, Todd," Another biker said. "Why should they have to pay for lunch too? I mean obviously they're paying for the refrigerator. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"It's called common courtesy, Jeff!" Todd snapped. "Something obviously you don't know about."

"Oh, here we go," Jeff groaned. "This is about that damn pizza, isn't it?"

"If you take more than two slices of pizza you have to pay for it!" Todd snapped.

"No, you don't if it's for a party!" Jeff snapped.

"A party you weren't even technically invited to!" Todd snapped.

"You had it in our apartment on a Monday night!" Jeff snapped. "Where else was I going to go? Which by the way you didn't ask me if you could have the stupid party in the first place!"

"It was for my knitting club and it was my turn to host!" Todd snapped getting into Jeff's face. "You didn't hear me complaining about your stupid scrapbooking party!"

"Scrapbooking is an art!" Jeff shouted.

"No, it's not!" Todd shouted.

SPLAT!

Todd's face was hit with guacamole. Everyone looked at Cheryl who clearly threw it.

"Why would you **do that?"** Ray shouted.

"Why **wouldn't** I do that?" Cheryl giggled. "Besides I like scrapbooking!"

"Plus, he thinks we should pay so…" Pam threw some guacamole at Todd as well.

"Ha! HA!" Jeff laughed. Todd punched his face. Jeff punched back. Soon the two of them were going at it.

"RUMMMMMMMMMMBLLEEEEE!" A biker shouted.

"Here we go…" Lana groaned as the remaining bikers started attacking the Figgis Agency.

"You guys just **had** to start another brawl, didn't you?" Ray snapped.

"Just try not to get knocked out on the first punch this time!" Pam shouted as she tackled a burly biker. "And use your bionic hand!"

"Oh right," Ray gulped as a huge muscular biker loomed over him. "Dukes…"

The muscular man laughed. "Yeah this is gonna be fun. You take the first shot pansy!"

"Okay," Ray narrowed his eyes and punched the biker in the chest with his bionic hand.

WHAAAAAAAAM!

The muscular biker flew across the room and slammed against the wall so hard his body made an imprint. "Mommy…" He muttered as he slid down the wall. "I have an owie…" He passed out.

"Who's the pansy **now**?" Ray snapped.

"Shoooom!" Krieger danced around using his karate moves. "Shooom!"

"Of course," Ray groaned.

"Kara-teeeeee!" A thin waiter made some karate moves. "Okay! I've been practicing! Let's get it on!" Soon he and Krieger were dancing around using karate moves but not touching each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ray remarked. "We have a tie."

"Shooom! Shoooooom!" Kreger danced around not touching the waiter.

"Hi-yaaaa!" The thin waiter danced around making his own karate moves not touching Krieger. "Hiiiii-yaaaaa!"

Everyone stopped for a moment and watched them. "Shoom!" Krieger danced around.

"Hiiiiiyaaaaaa!" The thin waiter did his moves.

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged. Then went back to fighting each other, ignoring Krieger and the waiter.

"AAAAHHH!" Cyril tried to fight off a medium sized biker by tackling him.

"That's it you floozy!" A waitress made the mistake of grabbing Lana by the hair. Lana managed to punch her out. Soon the entire restaurant was fighting each other.

"HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl was chasing a waiter around with a broken bottle.

"Now I remember why we don't go out to lunch very often," Lana groaned as she and Ray fought back to back.

"Now I know why Ms. Archer prefers to eat **alone** ," Ray grumbled as he punched out a waiter. "She's probably having the time of her life at some hoity-toity restaurant!"

"AAAAHHHHH!" Pam threw a biker guy across the bar. The biker screamed as he flew off the bar and hit his head on a jukebox nearby. Which predictably started playing music.

"While Pam is having the time of her life," Lana groaned.

Meanwhile…

"Bartender!" Mallory snapped as she sat at a bar in a TGI Fridays. "Give me another damn scotch and skip the rocks!"

"Don't you think you've had enough?" The Bartender asked.

"Don't you think you should re-evaluate **your life**?" Mallory snapped. "Just pour me the damn drink! And where the hell is my damn club sandwich?"

"I'd like to club you, you drunken old slag," The Bartender grumbled under his breath. "I swear I can't get my PHD fast enough!"

"I can't believe I have sunk this low to visit a place that's gaudier than a House of Burlesque," Mallory grumbled. "If I didn't need some protein in my body I wouldn't even be here."

"Seems you need something to offset your liquid lunch," The Bartender gave her a drink.

"Ha, ha…" Mallory snapped. "You must be comedian. Just keep an eye out for my food Jerry Seinfeld! And what's with all the pins? I've seen Girl Scouts with fewer badges!"

"That's it," The Bartender sighed as he walked away. "I'm taking extra courses at Peacock University. Damn the stigma. Anything to get away from **this**!"

"It could be worse Brad," A waitress walked up to him. "We could be working at Pita Margaritas."

"That's true," Brad the Bartender sighed.

"I bet the service there isn't so snotty," Mallory grumbled.

Back to Pita Margarita's.

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" A waitress threw dishes at the customers during the brawl. "GOD, I HATE YOU PEOPLE! GET OUT!"

"YEAH CUSTOMERS SUCK!" A waiter shouted.

"CUSTOMERS SUCK!" The waiters and waitresses chanted as they fought their customers. "CUSTOMERS SUCK!"

"Oh you are so getting a bad review on Yelp!" Jeff shouted as he grabbed a bottle of tequila.

Out of the kitchen another waiter pushed a cart with a pan on top of a hot flaming cooker. "Who wants fresh baked fajitas?" He sang happily. "Cooked right at the table?"

"SUCK IT!" Jeff shouted as he threw the bottle.

The bottle flew right at the waiter. In panic the waiter picked up the pan protecting his face. However, the bottle fell right on top of the open flame.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Oops," Jeff gulped as the flames exploded and caught the waiter on fire.

"Oh that can't end well," Ray gulped.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" The waiter screamed in panic as he fled into the kitchen.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT GREASE TRAP!" Someone shouted in the kitchen.

FFOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"And that's how the waiter died," Lana winced as flames exploded from the kitchen.

"This is the damn scrapbooking party all over again!" Todd groaned. "RUN!"

"Good idea!" Lana gulped. "Let's get out of here!"

"Save the margaritas!" Pam shouted as she grabbed a half full pitcher of margaritas.

"EEEE!" Cheryl jumped up and down with glee.

"COME ON!" Lana grabbed Cheryl and dragged her away.

Soon they were in the parking lot looking at the restaurant on fire. "Okay!" Pam spoke up. "I'd like to point out that neither Krieger or me started **this fire**! Everybody saw that right?"

"And I didn't set this fire either!" Cheryl added. "Boy I'm really striking out today."

"No," Lana groaned. "We just started the brawl that **caused** the fire!"

"We should go now," Cyril gulped as he heard sirens.

"To the Rush Van!" Krieger called out.

"As in **rushing away** from getting thrown in the slammer!" Pam added as they ran to Krieger's van.

Soon they were in the van. Krieger drove away. "All I wanted was one God damn productive day," Cyril sighed. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Apparently yes," Lana sighed.

"On the plus side," Ray pulled out some cash from his jacket. "I found some money for the new refrigerator."

"You **didn't** …" Lana gasped.

"Well it was probably going to get burned anyway!" Ray snapped.

"So in the confusion you used your super speed to steal from the cash register?" Krieger asked. "Cool!"

"Well you wanted a productive day, Cyril," Lana snapped. "You got one!"

"How much did you get Ray?" Cyril sighed.

"About eight hundred bucks," Ray told him.

"That will pay for at least half of a new refrigerator," Cyril sighed. "So yes, Lana I **am** happy! So, **shut up!"**

"And we didn't have to pay for lunch," Cheryl added. "Free meal!"

"We really should rethink this whole detective thing," Pam sighed. "Starting to think we are not that good at it."

"No? You **think?** " Cyril snapped.


	3. We Need A New Refrigerator

**We Need A New Refrigerator **

"You know what **most people** consider a productive day?" Cyril asked with a sigh as he rode in the back of Kreger's van. "Paying bills. Doing office work. Even cleaning is considered productive. What do we do? We get into fights and set things **on fire!"**

"Technically we only set the refrigerator on fire," Pam corrected. "Those bikers set the restaurant on fire. So, we were only responsible for **one fire!"**

"One is too many!" Cyril snapped.

"Since when?" Cheryl asked.

"Let's just get the damn refrigerator," Lana suggested.

"Hey what's that?" Pam noticed something. "That building with the huge sundae on top?"

"Oh that," Krieger said. "That's LA's ice cream museum."

"An **ice cream museum**?" Pam gasped. "Stop the van! Stop the van!"

"We are **not** stopping the van!" Lana snapped. "We need to get a refrigerator and that's where we're going!"

"Hang on Lana," Cyril spoke up. "I don't see how spending a little time at an ice cream museum could hurt."

"What the hell Cyril?" Lana snapped. "You were the one complaining just now about these two setting your refrigerator on fire!"

"Yes, and I had some Fudgy Bars in that damn refrigerator," Cyril snapped. "What? I can't like ice cream?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that…" Lana began.

"Aw man I'm sorry Cyril," Pam said. "I didn't know about the Fudgy Bars. No wonder you were so upset."

"Cyril since when are you into stupid things?" Lana asked.

"Since the last time he had sex with you!" Cheryl laughed. "Phrasing boom!"

"And you!" Lana snapped.

"Burn!" Ray quipped. "But I'd like to see this ice cream refrigerator too."

"Ray…" Lana protested.

"Lana the day is pretty much shot to Hell anyway," Ray said. "We might as well get something out of it. Besides how long can it take to pick out a new refrigerator? We can do both."

"I don't want to go to a stupid ice cream museum!" Cheryl snapped. "I'm lactose intolerant!"

"Fine," Cyril snapped. "You and Lana can go pick out the refrigerator! Happy?"

"Not really," Cheryl grumbled.

"Why am **I** being punished?" Lana asked. "What did I do?"

"You're the one complaining about going to the ice cream museum," Pam pointed out. "The mall is right down the street. You can get it in Mears. They probably have them cheap."

"Just don't bother with the warranty," Krieger advised. "Because…you know?"

"The company is sinking like the Titanic on Glacier Night," Ray added.

"We don't need anything too expensive for the break room," Cyril advised. "Just a halfway decent one. You can call us to pick it up when you're done."

"But I'm shopping with **her!** " Cheryl pointed at Lana. "It won't be fun at all!"

"My sentiments **exactly** ," Lana glared at her.

"Well at least there's nothing she can set fire to," Cyril snapped.

"You don't know that!" Lana snapped. "Don't give her a challenge!"

"Relax Lana Lame!" Cheryl snapped. "I already saw a fire today. I'm good."

"Here's the 800 dollars I acquired," Ray gave Lana the money.

"You mean the money you stole from Pita Margaritas during the brawl," Lana looked at him.

"Are you really going to nitpick about this?" Ray asked. "We'll drop you off at the mall. It will probably take you about an hour or so to get a refrigerator anyway. You call us when you're done and we'll pick you up!"

"That does sound like a sensible plan," Krieger said.

"Ditching us to go to an ice cream museum is a **sensible plan?"** Cheryl asked. "Seriously?"

"And that's **her** saying that!" Lana pointed to Cheryl.

"Exactly!" Cheryl nodded. "I'm not saying that Lana and I don't need any character development or interaction. Because honestly that would be an expected plot point on this show. I mean she's had interactions with Cyril, Ray, Pam, Archer obviously. Ms. Archer oh my God! Krieger…Well not so much Krieger. The point is I get that it's my turn and it's something the audience needs to see. But something as stupid as buying a _new refrigerator_? Come on! Where's the plot twist in **that**?"

Everyone looked at Cheryl. "I'm just saying," Cheryl went on. "That the B story doesn't have to be inferior to the A story. I mean sometimes the B story is actually **more interesting** than the A story. All I'm asking for is some better writing here."

The next thing Lana and Cheryl knew they were in the mall parking lot in front of Mears and the Rush Van was speeding away. "For what it's worth," Lana groaned. "I don't believe this is a great idea either."

"I know, right?" Cheryl asked. "Having us being boring is not good character development. Even though getting a new refrigerator is what we need, which technically is a plot device. But it's not an exciting one."

"And they get to go create mayhem at an ice cream museum," Lana groaned. "Yeah, that will turn out well."

"God, I hate being the responsible one in this group," Cheryl groaned. "No wonder you bitch so much."

"Yeah," Lana glared at her as they went into the store. **"That's** why."

Meanwhile at the ice cream museum…

"Twenty bucks each to go to an ice cream museum," Cyril groaned. "I can't believe I spent that much to get into an ice cream museum."

"Well it's an ice cream museum Cyril!" Pam snapped. "Of course, it's not going to be cheap! The free samples alone could bankrupt this place without some kind of price hike."

"Free samples?" Ray asked. "Are you sure?"

"It's a museum of ice cream!" Krieger said. "Of course, there are going to be free samples!"

"Duh!" Ray nodded.

"I mean obviously there's a history of ice cream timeline," Krieger pointed out. "Early ice cream makers. Signs from early ice cream stands. Ice cream sculptures in freezing cubes. A pool of sprinkles…"

"Wait there's a pool full of _sprinkles_?" Cyril blinked.

"I knew something interesting would be in here!" Pam grinned.

"Last one in is a defective clone!" Krieger whooped as he ran to the sprinkle pool.

ZZZOOOOM!

"WHOO HOO!" Ray dove into the sprinkle pool feet first.

"No fair using your bionics Ray!" Krieger pouted. Then he and Pam dove in.

"I guess it was too much to hope for that pool would be shallow," Cyril grumbled to himself. "And they'd break their necks."

"This is amaaaaazing!" Ray laughed as they played around in the sprinkle pool.

"I love the feel of sprinkles in my underwear!" Krieger cheered.

"Me too," Pam agreed. "Come on in Cyril!"

"Pass," Cyril said. "If I want to swim in something weird and sticky I'll just have Krieger build another secret bathhouse. I'm going to check out the exhibits."

"Suit yourself, House Elf," Pam shrugged as she did the backstroke.

"We might get kicked out before Lana and Cheryl get done," Cyril groaned as he saw a security guard walk over. "Let me guess, people aren't allowed in the sprinkle pool."

"Oh no we let people swim in the sprinkle pool," The guard said. "Usually though it's children. And people who are high."

"Odds are they are so…" Cyril went to look at the exhibits.

"Just don't let them pee in the pool," The guard said.

"I MAKE NO PROMISES!" Pam shouted.

It wasn't long before Cyril was looking at some exhibits. "Oooh! An antique ice cream making machine! I mean it's no elevator but it's still pretty cool."

Raucous laughter from his friends was heard. "FREE SAMPLES IN THE NEOPOLITAN ROOM!" Pam whooped. "YAAAAY!"

"AND SOME OF THEM HAVE ALCOHOL IN THEM!" Ray shouted.

Cyril realized. "So it isn't just us!" Cyril ran to join his friends. They were in a room with several tables covered with samples.

"Oh my God!" Ray was eating several samples. "I'm such a fatty!"

"Best field trip ever!" Pam grinned as she ate several samples. "I wonder if there's a hot fudge pump around here somewhere?"

"I just hope Lana and Cheryl stay out of trouble," Cyril groaned. "We may need them to pay for our bail."

"They're shopping for a **refrigerator,** " Pam gave him a look. "How much trouble can those two get into?"

Meanwhile…

"And **stay out**!" Two security guards shoved Lana and Cheryl out the door of the department store out into the street.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that you were banned from Mears?" Lana snapped.

"Because I **forgot** okay?" Cheryl snapped. "Do you have any idea how many stores us Tunts are banned from? A lot!"

"How many fires did you set **this time**?" Lana snapped.

"I didn't! It's **not** my fault! **This time!"** Cheryl snapped. "Blame my grandfather and my father! They're the ones who drove HC Mears the Second to suicide. They're the ones who made those shady deals that split the company in half. They're the ones who set fire to the Mears family compound! Not me!"

"And you absolutely positively had **nothing** to do with the feud?" Lana gave her a look.

"We-eelll," Cheryl paused. "I did sort of kind of accidentally break Herbert Charles' Mears The Fifth's arm when we were in camp together."

"Sort of kind of accidentally?" Lana asked.

"I told him what would happen if he kept trying to peek into the girl's bathroom," Cheryl shrugged. "If you think about it, it was kind of his own fault."

"I'll give you a pass on that one," Lana admitted. "But nothing else?"

"Nothing!" Cheryl said. "Except…"

"I **knew** it!" Lana groaned. "What?"

"Cecil and I sort of burned down one of the Mears family yachts," Cheryl shrugged.

" _Cecil_ and you **sort of** burned down a yacht?" Lana asked.

"Well I did make him carry the gas can and the matches," Cheryl nodded.

"In other words, Mears is right out for buying anything," Lana remarked.

"Pretty much yes," Cheryl nodded.

"I guess we just have to wait for the others and go to another store," Lana sighed.

"Or," Cheryl suggested. "Or hear me out…We steal a refrigerator."

"Okay here's **everything wrong** with that idea," Lana sighed. "One is that we can't **steal** a refrigerator. It's not like a pocketbook or anything small. Two even if we could do that, the security guards know what we look like. And three…IT'S WRONG TO STEAL PERIOD!"

"One I didn't say we'd steal a refrigerator from **here** ," Cheryl pointed out. "I was thinking of somewhere else. And two…Really? You're going **there** about stealing is wrong? You know you don't really have a case for that. Remember all the things **you stole** in the past?"

"Yes, but we can't steal a refrigerator," Lana gave her a look. "We'd go to jail!"

"Not if we stole from another Tunt," Cheryl remarked. "Or more specifically, Cecil. Look!"

Lana looked over where she was pointing. "A Starbucks?"

"No, next to the Starbucks."

Lana looked again. "A high-end grocery store?"

"No, not right next to the Starbucks," Cheryl corrected. "About three spaces from the Starbucks."

"That's still technically the grocery store," Lana said. "Because it has a café and a wine outlet."

"Two more spaces after the wine outlet."

"There's a small park."

"Adjacent to the park!" Cheryl was exasperated. "That huge building **there!"** She pointed to a huge apartment complex.

" **That** building?" Lana blinked. "It looks like an apartment complex."

"Not just any apartment complex," Cheryl corrected. "It's the Tuntagon! A building full of luxury suites and at the top is a penthouse that takes up five floors! And one of those floors has a fully functioning kitchen with at least four refrigerators!"

"How many buildings do you own?" Lana asked.

"Oh I don't own the Tuntagon," Cheryl explained. "Cecil does. And you know he doesn't need four refrigerators. Especially since he's still with Tiffy."

"Why does anyone need four refrigerators?" Lana asked.

"We have a few professional chefs and/and or party planners in the family," Cheryl shrugged. "I mean you can't be expected to eat out every night, can you?"

"No but…" Lana paused.

"It'll be easy," Cheryl waved. "We go in through the service entrance and get a pallet. Use my ID and Tunt family codes to bypass security. Probably bribe a few guys to help us load up the refrigerator. Steal a service van. Easy peasy!"

"Easy peasy?" Lana blinked.

"Lana, this is **not** the first major appliance I've ever stolen," Cheryl scoffed.

"I believe that," Lana said simply.

"Once I cleaned out my cousin Chole Tunt's entire studio apartment within an hour while she was getting her nails done," Cheryl snorted.

"I believe that too," Lana groaned.

"To the Tuntagon!" Cheryl cheered as she went ahead.

"I should have gone to the ice cream museum," Lana sighed as she followed Cheryl. "I mean, it's an **ice cream museum**. How much trouble can they cause there?"

Meanwhile…

"Free ice cream is the best!" Pam scarfed down several small samples at once.

"You know you're supposed to have only one or two, right?" A woman who was manning the free sample table asked.

"You know how easy it would be for me to knock your teeth out?" Pam snapped.

"Have some more samples!" The woman said in a terrified cheerful way. "Take them all!"

"THANK YOU!" Ray zipped by using his bionic legs to grab several samples. "WHO HOO!"

"Hey!" Pam snapped.

"Is it just me or does he look a little hyper?" Krieger blinked.

Ray was running around like a happy maniac eating samples, randomly knocking things over with his super speed. "Does he seem a little hyper?" Krieger asked Pam.

"If he was any more hyper he'd be in orbit," Pam remarked.

"This ice cream is really good," Cyril ate some samples. "I taste Twinkies."

"It's our experimental flavor," The sample woman explained. "Vanilla Fried Twinkie Explosion Surprise."

"What's the surprise?" Pam asked.

"You'll find out the next time you get your blood sugar tested," The sample woman explained. "There's more sugar in this one tiny sample than in a six pack of soda."

"Wow I can certainly feel the rush," Pam blinked. "Okay now it's kicking in!"

"Yeah…" Cyril looked and saw that Ray was running around faster. "I think I'm going to go visit the gift shop." He walked away to the gift shop. "And maybe pretend I don't know these people!"

"OOOH! I gotta check that out!" Krieger ran off to inspect something.

"Hey I need to check out some more samples pronto!" Pam called out. "Got any more alcohol flavored ones?"

"WHOO HOO!" Ray whooped. "I FEEL SO ALIVE!"

"I'd like to get some postcards and a few other souvenirs please," Cyril said to the gift shop employee. "Something tells me we won't be allowed back here again."

Meanwhile…

"I AM NEVER COMING BACK HERE AGAIN!" Lana shouted at Cheryl as they ran through a kitchen. There were also lights going on and off and music like they were at a rave.

"I told you!" Cheryl snapped. "I'm not the one who tripped the security system!"

"It's so freaking loud!" Lana shouted as the music became louder.

"No, I'm not **proud**!" Cheryl snapped. "I'm usually **better** than this! I didn't even do anything! I didn't get a chance to."

"We need to find somewhere we can think!" Lana groaned as she put her hands over her ears.

"Yes, I really could use a drink!" Cheryl agreed.

"Let's try another room!" Lana shouted.

"What do you need with a broom?" Cheryl shouted confused.

"What?" Lana asked.

"What?" Cheryl asked. "Let's go into that room so we can talk!" She pointed to another door.

They ran inside and shut the door. Only to find out that the room was actually a closet. And it was sort of cramped full of people.

"OWWW!" Cecil Tunt yelled. "You stepped on my foot!"

"Cecil?" Lana asked.

"Lana Kane?" Tiffy, Cecil's girlfriend asked.

"Tiffy?" Cheryl snapped.

"Cheryl!" Cecil was surprised.

"Well now we've done roll call…" Lana grumbled as she tried to move in the confined space. "Get your hand off my breast!"

"Sorry that was me," Tiffy apologized. "I was trying to find the door."

"What are you doing here?" Cheryl snapped.

"Playing Blind Man's Bluff?" Cecil replied weakly.

"Where's the door?" Lana tried to move around. "Move it!"

"You move it!" Cheryl snapped.

"I was talking to Tiffy," Lana told her.

"Oh then sorry," Cheryl apologized. "Move it Tiffy!"

"Make me!" Tiffy shouted.

"Okay who's breast am I touching?" Cecil gasped. "Oh wait, it's my own! Oooh! I'm rather curvaceous!"

"Way to go Cheryl!" Lana groaned. "Got us trapped in the closet!"

"Who are you? R. Kelly? At least it's **quieter!** " Cheryl snapped.

"Not for long!" Tiffy snapped. "OW! MY FOOT!"

"Ha ha!" Cheryl laughed.

"CHERYL CALL OFF YOUR CRAZY SECURITY SYSTEM!" Cecil shouted.

"NO!" Cheryl shouted. "YOU CALL OFF YOUR CRAZY SECURITY SYSTEM!"

"Hang on," Cecil blinked. "You're not doing this?"

"No!" Cheryl snapped. "You're not doing this?"

"NO!" Cecil told her. "I'm the one who accidentally tripped the security system!"

"And another mystery solved," Lana rolled her eyes.

"Figures!" Cheryl groaned. "You always did stupid things like that!"

"Speaking of stupid…" Tiffy groaned. "Where's the door?"

"I found it!" Lana tried to open it. "It's locked!"

Suddenly the room lurched and seemed to move. "Is it me or is the room spinning?" Tiffy shouted.

"No! It's going downwards!" Cecil realized. "This isn't a regular closet! This is an elevator closet!"

"Whoever heard of an **elevator closet**?" Lana shouted. "And as soon as I asked the question I realized the answer. Cyril!"

"I knew this was a **stupid** idea!" Tiffy snapped. "I told you it wasn't worth stealing from Cheryl!"

"You're not stealing from me," Cheryl said. "We're stealing a refrigerator from **you**!"

"I thought we were stealing a microwave from **you,** " Cecil asked. "Because you know? The Tuntagon was yours."

"No, it's not mine," Cheryl shook her head. "I thought the Tuntagon was **yours!"**

"Cecil doesn't own the Tuntagon," Tiffy snapped.

"Well if you don't own it," Lana realized. "And Cheryl doesn't own it. Who does?"

"I DO!"

They heard a voice booming from some hidden speakers. "Who is **that?"** Lana shouted.

"Chole!" Cheryl and Cecil gasped.

" _Who?"_ Tiffy asked.

Suddenly the elevator came to a rapid stop. Before anyone could react, the door opened sharply and the wall quickly moved forward, shoving everyone out of the elevator. "Oh yeah…" Cecil groaned as they landed together in a clump. "This elevator also has the ejector option."

"A little warning about that would have been helpful!" Lana snapped.

"Someone get off my back!" Tiffy shouted. She was at the bottom of the pile.

"Where the hell are we?" Lana looked around the room. It was set up like an office maze. "This looks like a place where lab rats clock in to do accounting."

"HA! The Mighty Tunts and their hench-women fall at my feet!" A woman with blonde hair with purple and pink streaks laughed before them. She wore a pink glitter dress with a jean jacket, lots of bracelets and thigh high boots. She also had a resemblance to the actress Katlyn Olsen.

"I'm Cecil's girlfriend you twit!" Tiffy snapped as they untangled themselves.

"And I just work **with** Cheryl!" Lana corrected. "I don't work **for** her. Big difference, Jem Light."

"Yeah like I'd have **you** on my payroll," Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Unless I need a professional lecturer to nag people to death, no thanks!"

"It doesn't matter," The woman waved. "The headline was that the Tunts fell at my feet. Even though like I'm technically a Tunt too but I'm on the better side of the Tunt family…"

"Chole you're only a Tunt because your grandmother married my great uncle before your mother was born!" Cheryl snapped. "And her father was actually uncle's half-brother's business partner. But since that incident with the Halloween hayride, the jealous lover and the scythe he couldn't father any more children and legally adopted your mother just to piss his surviving children off!"

"I am **too** a Tunt!" Chole snapped. "You forget that the half-brother's business partner was our illegitimate twice removed cousin on our great-great grandfather's side! It counts!"

"Chole? Is this the same Chole who's apartment you cleaned out?" Lana asked Cheryl.

"The very one," Cheryl admitted.

"That was like totally not cool," Chole snapped. "Even for you bitch!"

"Why does your cousin sound like Moon Unit?" Lana asked.

"Because she grew up in the Valley and she's a total whack job," Cheryl groaned. "I mean she's completely bonkers!"

"You think **she's** bonkers?" Tiffy shouted.

"Trust me, Tiffy," Cecil groaned. "Chole make Cheryl look tame!"

"I find that very hard to believe," Tiffy blinked.

"And now we're going to have some fun," Chole laughed maniacally. "A game of fetch!"

"I am not chasing a ball," Lana glared at her.

"Oh no, you misunderstand me," Chole explained. " **You're** not the one doing the fetching. That would be my attack Chihuahuas. They're the ones that are going to be chasing and fetching you! Technically your severed limbs. But no, you're the chase-ees. Not the chasers."

"Attack **Chihuahuas?"** Lana blinked.

"With lasers!" Chole laughed manically as several tiny dogs ran out with lasers strapped to their backs.

"See what I mean?" Cecil groaned.

"Okay **now** I believe it!" Tiffy gulped.

"ATTACK!" Chole laughed. The lasers struck barely hitting Tiffy.

"RUN!" Lana shouted. And they did.

"RUN! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN!" Chole laughed as the dogs chased their prey. "I AM THE GINGERBREAD…TUNT! Okay so it doesn't rhyme well! You get my point!"

Cheryl shouted as they ran. "Lana why don't you do something useful besides being huge and **shoot them**?"

"I didn't bring my gun!" Lana snapped.

"WHAT?" Cheryl shouted. "WHY?"

"WHO BRINGS A GUN TO BUY A REFRIGERATOR?" Lana shouted.

Cheryl paused. "Oh right. You're not a Tunt. You don't know that rule. Okay. You get a pass on this one."

"Yeah even among Tunts that rule isn't that well known," Cecil agreed. "I always get that confused myself with baseball bats and microwaves."

"Your family has the craziest rules," Tiffy groaned.

"I know, right?" Lana said.

"Bark! Bark! Bark!" The tiny dogs barked.

ZZZAPP!

Cecil screamed as he barely dodged a laser blast. "This is **exactly** like when we were kids and you made me carry the gas cans when you wanted to burn something!"

" **Exactly?"** Tiffy shouted. "Are you telling me that you had to run from laser toting dogs before?"

"Well the lasers are a twist," Cecil gulped.

"I should have just gone to the damn ice cream museum," Lana groaned. "Nice and safe there!"

Meanwhile…

"COWABUNGA DUDE!" Krieger whooped as he rode a table on a wave of soft serve ice cream that flooded the museum.

"And there goes millions of dollars in property damage," Cyril groaned from the safety of the gift shop. He had a few bags in his hands.

Pam floated by him, half covered in chocolate riding a board. "Surf's up dude!"

"Pam where did you get the surfboard?" Cyril blinked as she made her way to inside the gift shop.

"There's an exhibit about ice cream and surfing," Pam grinned. "It's a small one."

"Since a new chapter has been written right now," Cyril sighed. "It should get bigger."

Pam licked her arm. "Triple Chocolate! Want some?" She offered her arm.

"No thanks," Cyril sighed. "I'm cutting down on crazy."

"WHOO HOO!" Ray was heard cheering. "SURF'S UP DUDE!"

CRASH!

"And that is the sound of a new lawsuit on our doorstep," Cyril groaned.

"I think Ray-Star has had way too much sugar," Pam winced. "And that's **me** saying that!"

"Ray-Star?" Cyril asked.

"Queer-Silver is a little too obvious," Pam shrugged.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

"WHOO HOO!" Something blurred by them, spilling out a wave of ice cream. Pam was hit but Cyril managed to move in time to avoid it.

"This is an interesting side of Ray," Pam quipped.

"This is you on **cocaine** ," Cyril gave Pam a look.

"Oh come on!" Pam snapped. "I couldn't have been **that nuts**!"

"Trust me Pam," Cyril groaned. "You were!"

"GO HERD!"

CRASH!

"Just slower," Cyril groaned.

"Eh," Pam looked around at the ice cream all over the place. She went back out into the ice cream and started eating it.

"Pam!" Cyril snapped.

"It's good!" Pam protested.

"So hey…" Krieger made his way to them. "I saw some security guards…They're a little tied up right now but I don't think they will be for long."

"I assume you mean that literally?" Cyril sighed.

"With licorice," Krieger nodded. "And it wasn't me that did it. It was Ray. Oh you got some souvenirs?"

"Yeah, I got a few things," Cyril said. "To remind us of this day. Other than the bills…And lawsuits."

"I'm gonna remember this day for a long time!" Pam laughed as she licked the walls.

"PAM STOP LICKING THE WALLS!" Cyril shouted. "There's plenty of ice cream everywhere else!"

"Since when are you my supervisor?" Pam snapped. Cyril yelled in frustration.

"WHOOOOO! HOOOOOO!"

CRASH!

"We're not going to be allowed back in here again, are we?" Krieger asked Cyril.

"No, we are **not** ," Cyril sighed. "RAY! PAM! WE'RE LEAVING!"

"Aw man…" Pam grumbled.

Soon they were in the parking lot. "Good thing a lot of people don't like to eat licorice whips," Krieger remarked.

"That was fun," Ray's eyes were slightly glazed. "That was fu-uuuuun!"

"That was destruction of property," Cyril looked at Ray.

Ray responded by vibrating his legs fast enough so that he splattered some of the chocolate ice cream on him to everyone else. "Ray!" Pam snapped. "Say it don't spray it!"

"You already had ice cream splatters on you!" Cyril snapped.

"Good point," Pam realized she had fresh ice cream on her. She started to lick her arm.

"Can't have nice things," Cyril looked at his clothes. "Let's get out of here before someone calls the cops!"

"I got an idea!" Ray grinned. "This is gonna be fun, fun, fun, fuuuuuun!" He then sped away using his bionic legs.

"RAY!" Cyril snapped.

"There he goes," Pam remarked. "I wonder where he's going?"

"To cause trouble!" Cyril groaned. "This is the last time we let Ray get a sugar buzz. Should have went with Lana and Cheryl. Getting a refrigerator can't be any crazier than **this!** "

Meanwhile…

"How the hell did my life get this crazy?" Lana groaned. She was in a cage with Cheryl, Cecil and Tiffy. The cage was hanging right next to an indoor pool and there were some sharks swimming around in it. There were also a few security guards in the room with Chole.

"Oh, I can answer that," Tiffy told her. "You got involved with **Tunts!"**

"She's not wrong," Cecil sighed.

"This is the **last time** I let you talk me into stealing a refrigerator," Lana glared at Cheryl.

"Ditto on the microwave!" Tiffy snapped at Cecil.

"And that's how we died," Lana groaned.

"Thanks to Cecil and his stupid weak ankles," Cheryl grumbled.

"Shut up Bitch!" Tiffy snapped at Cheryl.

"At least Cheryl saved us from those dogs!" Cecil added. "Well her and Lana."

"Yeah how did you two figure out how to electrocute those attack laser dogs using only some stray wires, a paper clip and a bottle of sports drink?" Tiffy asked.

"Something we picked from hanging around Krieger," Lana said. "Don't ask."

"Good thing I had my security guards to catch you!" Chole cackled. "Okay security guards! I'm just going to enjoy tormenting these people. For legal reasons you can't be in the room."

"Like we don't have a clue what's going to happen?" One guard grumbled as they left.

"She never lets us have any fun," Another said.

"I don't pay you to have fun!" Chole snapped as they left. "Well technically that one weekend in Cancun…But that's not important now. Now it's time for my revenge on the so called Main Tunt Clan!"

"I don't suppose a simple I'm sorry will cut it, will it?" Cecil gulped.

"WHAT DO **YOU THINK**?" Tiffy shouted at him.

"Don't need to shout," Cecil whined. "I'm right here."

"And there you will stay!" Chole grinned. "Until of course I lower the cage into the pool."

"Uh I just ate so I can't go swimming," Cheryl spoke up.

"Oh, don't worry," Chole told her. "You're not going to swim. You're going to **be eaten!** Totally different thing!"

"You're off your meds again aren't you Chole?" Cecil sighed.

"Duh!" Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"I so should have gotten my doctorate in Environmental Science," Lana groaned.

"In **this** economy?" Chole snorted. "Good luck with that!"

"I just got an online degree in Security Services Theory," Lana said weakly.

"That's a thing?" Cecil asked.

"Totally a thing," Chole nodded. "Like half my security staff has that same degree. Peacock University, right?"

"Yes," Lana admitted with a groan.

"So technically Lana could get a job as a henchwoman," Cheryl said.

"Kind of a moot point because you know? You're all going to be dead," Chole shrugged.

"Oh joy," Lana groaned. "There goes a couple hundred bucks down the drain."

"Only problem is I don't think I can kill _you,_ " Chole said to Lana. "See I'm kind of over my limit of killing black people this year…"

"THERE'S A LIMIT FOR KILLING BLACK PEOPLE?" Lana shouted. "Technically that should be zero!"

"Eehhhh," Chole shrugged. "Look like there's this Tunt family law was written before the Civil War. Apparently, we had a few ancestors that liked killing slaves way too much. So much that it interfered with the harvest season. So like you know, the old dudes and gals that ran the family passed this law that you could only kill so many black people and people of color a year."

"Jesus Christ…" Lana winced. "And you killed a lot of black people just **this year?"**

"Well not exactly," Chole shrugged. "Apparently like I had this apartment complex that had like faulty wiring that I didn't even know I owned! My stupid head of acquisitions like bought it without telling me and then it caught fire and a lot of people died and there was like this lawsuit which turned out to be totally my super's fault and I had to shift money and titles to make sure he got the blame. Long story short, technically it counts."

"I would think so yeah," Lana groaned.

"Your family is so messed up," Tiffy looked at Cecil.

"Tell me about it," Cecil groaned.

"I can kill as many white people as I want!" Chole snapped.

"Technically the limit is zero…" Cecil gulped.

"Yes! My pretties will tear you to pieces!" Chole asked.

"Your sharks that are now staying perfectly still?" Tiffy blinked as she noticed something.

"Yes! They are staying still waiting to strike!" Chole said.

"Uh I used to run a sea lab," Cecil remarked. "And I know a few things about sharks. One of them is that have to swim constantly or they will die."

"Really?" Chole blinked. "I did not know that. Even when they're sleeping?"

"I guess," Cecil shrugged.

"How can they swim while they're asleep?" Cheryl asked.

"They float!" Tiffy snapped. "Who cares? The point is those sharks aren't moving at all!"

"Aw man!" Chole snapped as she picked up a remote. "I knew I should have gotten real ones!"

"They're **fake**?" Lana gasped. "Oh God! Please don't let Krieger be responsible for those!"

"I got these from a website called Sparks Industries," Chole told her.

"Oh, good that's not one of his," Lana let out a breath.

"Yeah if it was it would be in German or the name Krieger would be part of it," Cheryl nodded.

"Who?" Cecil asked.

"Crazy scientist that we know," Cheryl said. "I told you about him. Bearded guy. Gives me a lot of drugs."

"Was he that nut job with the cocaine press at Aunt Thelma's house?" Tiffy realized.

"That was Krieger," Lana groaned.

"Come on sharks!" Chole kept pushing buttons. "Come on sharks! Wakey, wakey!"

They still wouldn't move. "Maybe the warranty expired?" Cecil suggested.

"Yeah on Chloe's brain!" Cheryl snorted.

"Well I could always get real sharks online or something," Chole shrugged. "And then lower the cage later. Because you can't escape from that cage. It has impenetrable bars so nothing can get in or out."

"But it has a trap door, right?" Cecil asked. "So the sharks can get us?"

"CECIL!" Everyone shouted and glared at him.

"What?" Cecil asked.

"Oh no it does not," Chole blinked.

"So if the sharks can't get in the cage…" Cheryl realized. "They can't eat us!"

Chole realized something. "Oh. Right. Boy I did **not** think this through, did I?"

"Looks like it," Tiffy remarked.

"Okay. Okay new plan!" Chole snorted. "I'll just drown you! I'll lower the cage into the water and drown you! And since these mechanical sharks are malfunctioning, odds are that you could get electrocuted as well. Yeah that's a much **better** plan!"

"I **really** would prefer you didn't do that," Cecil gulped.

"Too bad!" Chole laughed as she went to the controls that were attached to the chain holding the cage. "And now! Using this crane, I will lower you into a watery grave! GOODBYE COUSINS! Give my regards to Davy Jones!"

"The Monkee?" Cheryl blinked. "What does he run a pool company now?"

"No, you…" Chole snapped. She looked at the others. "You guys get it right?"

"Technically that reference doesn't apply to our situation," Cecil said. "I mean it would if we were over an ocean. Not an indoor pool."

"Kind of loses its drama," Tiffy agreed. "Not the most appropriate idiom."

"It just doesn't fit," Lana agreed.

"It doesn't **have** to fit!" Chole snapped. "The point is that you are going to drown. And then I'm gonna go to your places and take your stuff! So…Have fun drowning!" Chole worked the controls.

"AAAAAHHH!" Everyone screamed at first as the cage was lowered down. Then Lana stopped. Then Tiffy stopped. Then Cheryl stopped.

Only Cecil was still screaming. "AAAH! AAAH! I DON'T WANT TO DROWN! I'M TOO CURVACEOUS TO DROWN!"

"Cecil," Lana sighed.

"Oh, the irony!" Cecil screamed with his eyes closed. "I've spent several years trying to save water and now I'm going to be **destroyed** by it! AAAHHH!"

"Cecil," Lana and Tiffy said.

"OH MY GOD!" Cecil screamed. "MY ONE REGRET IS THAT I DIDN'T BUY ENOUGH STUFF! I'M RICH! I SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT MORE STUFF!"

"CECIL!" Cheryl snapped.

"WHAT?" Cecil snapped as he looked at her. Then he looked at his situation. "Oh..."

The cage had lowered to the ground. But not into the pool. But on the side of it. "The chain wasn't long enough, was it?" Tiffy asked.

"No, it was not," Lana remarked. "We're at least five feet away from the pool."

"Wow I really did not plan this well at all," Chole blinked as she walked in front of the cage. "Okay. I admit. Like this was totally my bad."

"Really?" Lana glared at her.

"Yeah, I totally phoned this in," Chole remarked. "Probably should not snorted all that glue and coke while I was planning this should I?"

"Probably not," Tiffy glared at her.

"Well…" Chole laughed. "Live and learn. At least you guys are locked in there. Only way you can get out is if you had the key."

"You mean this key?" Cheryl produced the key.

"Yeah **that** one," Chole nodded. "How did you…?"

"Cheryl would you mind…?" Lana motioned for Cheryl to unlock the door. "I just need to…"

"Oh of course," Cheryl unlocked the door. "Help yourself."

"Uh okay…" Chole gulped nervously as the door was opened and Lana walked towards her. "Hey! You…Yeah…I was like…joking! Really! Just a joke! Having some laughs! Some fun and games here."

"This was all just for laughs huh?" Lana glared at her.

"Yeah!" Chole said nervously. "Just a harmless little lark! HA HA! You have a sense of humor, right?"

"You don't know Lana at all do you?" Cheryl snickered.

"Technically since this is the **first** time I've met her," Chole remarked. "I wouldn't know that yeah…"

"Oh, I have a sense of humor," Lana grinned. "In fact, I think you'll get a real **kick** out of this."

And with that Lana performed a roundhouse kick and knocked Chole into the pool.

SPLASH!

"Now **that** is an extremely appropriate idiom," Cecil grinned as the others got out of the cage.

"I always thought Cousin Chole was all wet," Tiffy remarked.

"Me too," Cecil and Cheryl said at the same time.

"Jinx!" Cheryl said cheerfully. "You owe me a coke!"

"The drink or the drug?" Cecil asked.

"Either one's good," Cheryl nodded. "Soooo… Can we steal a refrigerator now?"

"OH NO YOU'RE NOT! OVER MY DEAD BODY!"

Chole was floundering in the water and climbed out of the pool. "You're not dead?" Cheryl asked. "Lame!"

"HA!" Chole spat out some water as she stood up. "You thought I would get killed by the robot sharks or get electrocuted when I fell in the pool didn't you? Huh? DIDN'T YOU?"

"That thought did cross our minds," Cecil admitted.

"To be fair that has happened before when I was a spy," Lana admitted. "Not to me personally but I know at least three guys that managed to do that. Well two out of three. One guy was also killed by **actual sharks** when his cage fell in."

"So, this is an actual thing?" Chole was stunned. "This _actually happens_?"

"Not as much as you'd think," Lana shrugged. "But it's not unheard of."

"Huh," Chole blinked. "I did not know that."

"I mean it's more likely you get shot or blown up but it does happen," Lana added.

"Learn something new every day," Chole shrugged. "So uh…I'm going to call my security guards now and have them shoot you. SECURITY! SECURI-.."

Chole stomped her foot. However, her foot hit and broke the remote control she had dropped. A current of electricity went through her entire body. "ERRRRRKKKK!" She twitched and shook violently before falling back into the pool.

"She was electrocuted by her own remote?" Tiffy blinked.

"Looks like," Lana blinked. "Okay that's a new one for me."

"Hang on maybe she's still alive and…?" Cecil began.

Just then the robotic sharks began to spark and thrash wildly.

ZZZZAPPPP!

"Oooh…" Cecil winced as a surge of electricity coursed through the pool. Chole's body twitched wildly before it flopped silently down.

"Yeah, she's definitely dead now," Tiffy remarked.

"Oh yeah," Lana nodded. "The circuits must have malfunctioned when Chole broke the remote and…"

"Zzapp!" Cheryl giggled. "I guess this is why you should use real sharks instead of fake ones. Less dangerous."

"It was in Chole's case," Tiffy nodded.

"Soo…" Cecil blinked. "Who owns the Tuntagon now?"

"I don't think either of us do," Cheryl remarked. "She hated both of us. Some other Tunt must be in her will."

"Huh," Cecil blinked. "So technically her stuff is still fair game."

"I guess so," Cheryl nodded.

"But what about the dead body?" Lana pointed to the corpse in the water.

"Just follow our lead," Cecil said as several security officers ran in.

"What happened here?" A security guard gasped.

"Chole went nuts and committed suicide," Cecil said.

"She totally killed herself because she was off her meds," Cheryl nodded. She pointed to Lana and Tiffy. "We have witnesses! She killed herself! Didn't she?"

"Yuuup," Lana agreed.

"Completely," Tiffy agreed.

"Uhhhh…" The security guards looked at each other.

"Should we call this in?" Someone asked.

"Yeah go ahead," Cheryl folded her arms. "Let everyone know that you totally failed at your jobs to protect your boss."

"I've got this," Cecil picked up his phone and called a number. "Hello? Mandelbaum, Mandelbaum and Tunt Law Office. Hi! It's Cecil Tunt. I'm at the Tuntagon and Chole Tunt just totally committed suicide. Electrocuted herself while swimming with robot sharks. Huh. Really. Second time this year this has happened."

"Anyone else I would be shocked," Lana groaned.

"Yeah we're gonna need a clean-up team," Cecil said. "And someone to clean up the bodies. Okay you handle that. We're gonna leave now and get out of your hair. Thanks Cousin Timmy. Oh sure. I can get you that. No problem. Bye."

Cecil hung up. "The clean-up team is out of the way. Oh and by the way Tiffy, we need to pick up that Cézanne in the hallway for Cousin Timmy."

"Not a problem," Tiffy shrugged.

"So the clean-up crew is coming and we're going to take some things and go now," Cecil told the security guards.

"Wait, can you do that?" Another security guard asked.

"Well let's see," Lana paused. "Richest most powerful family in America…That owns this building. And I'm guessing that you all signed some confidentiality agreements in your contract so…"

"They can do that," The first security guard groaned.

"But…" The second security guard protested.

"What are we going to do Bob?" The first security guard snapped. "Call it in to the cops? Who are probably on the Tunt payroll?"

"I would not recommend that," Lana said as they started to leave. "Oh, we're going to need some help moving some furniture. So…?"

"We're not moving men," Bob snapped.

"Oh but you're perfectly willing to let your boss kill people," Tiffy sniffed. "That's your moral stance?"

"Technically we weren't in the room so we had no idea she was going to kill people," The first security guard said in an embarrassed tone.

"Forget it," Tiffy waved. "I'm sure we can find someone on staff that can help us. Let's go!"

"Oh by the way," Cheryl added as they left. "You guys are like totally fired."

Meanwhile…

"I'LL HAVE YOU ALL FIRED!" A drunken Mallory screamed as she was dragged away by the police in handcuffs out of the TGI Friday's. "AS IN I WILL BURN THIS BUILDING TO THE GROUND!"

"Why do we always get the crazy drunks?" One cop said to the other.

"IF I STILL HAD MONEY I WOULD BUY ONE OF THESE DUMPS JUST TO BURN IT TO THE GROUND!" Mallory fought. "CAROL HAS THE RIGHT IDEA! Oh God **Carol** has the right idea!"

Meanwhile…

"I have an idea!" Cheryl giggled to Lana as they loaded up a van. Well two hunky men in chef's clothing were loading a refrigerator in a van.

"We are **not** buying a restaurant so you can burn it to the ground!" Lana snapped.

"Lame," Cheryl pouted.

Meanwhile…

"This is so lame," Pam grumbled as they drove around in Krieger's van. "I could be at a bar right now!"

"Shut up!" Cyril snapped. "I knew going to the ice cream museum was a bad idea!"

"You shut up!" Krieger snapped. "It was fun!"

"Until we wrecked the place," Cyril groaned.

" **We?"** Pam scoffed. "Just curious. What did **you** do exactly?"

"You know that trash can we were supposed to put our sample cups in?" Cyril asked. "I dropped a couple on the ground on purpose."

"Oh, you litterbug," Pam scoffed mockingly.

"Cyril honestly that doesn't sound so bad," Krieger admitted.

"Well…" Cyril sighed. "You know how I was in the gift shop while the rest of you went nuts? Buying a few souvenirs? Technically I didn't buy **all** of them."

"What?" Pam gasped.

"The sales clerk was distracted and ran off when she saw the flood of ice cream," Cyril said. "So, I may have thrown a few extra things into my bag."

"Like?" Krieger asked.

"A few postcards," Cyril admitted. "Some potholders for the office. The tip jar…"

"WHAT?" Krieger and Pam shouted.

"There was fifty dollars in there!" Cyril snapped. "I wasn't going to pass on that!"

"Okay that's bad," Krieger admitted.

"Why…?" Pam was stunned.

Cyril explained. "Because I figured that I was going to get blamed anyway for what you idiots did. So I might as well do something! Also I figured out that the ice cream probably shorted out the security cameras somehow."

"Technically it flooded the security office," Krieger admitted. "Which shorted out the cameras so…"

"So why would I not do the crime if I was going to do the time anyway?" Cyril snapped.

"He does have a point," Krieger admitted.

That was when Cyril's phone rang. "Lana…" Cyril sighed as he answered. "We have a situation. It's going to be a while before we pick you up. See Ray had a major sugar buzz and he had to run it off so…"

"Don't worry about it Cyril," Lana sighed on her end. "We got a delivery van and we're delivering the new refrigerator to the agency now. Wait…Ray had a **sugar buzz**?"

"Yeah little life lesson," Cyril sighed. "Never give a cyborg too much sugar."

"My life lesson is to never get involved in a Tunt family feud," Lana groaned.

"Do I even want to know?" Cyril sighed.

"No," Lana replied. "Do I want to know about the ice cream museum?"

"Absolutely not," Cyril sighed.

"Okay so we're in agreement," Lana sighed. "I'll meet you back at the agency. And we don't tell Mallory anything."

"Not a word," Cyril agreed. "See you there." He hung up the phone.

Lana hung up the phone and pulled out of the Tuntagon driveway. "I think we missed some mass destruction."

"Well this was a productive day," Cheryl grinned as she sat in the passenger's seat. "We got a new slightly used refrigerator. A new coffee machine and some other stuff. And eight hundred bucks to split between us for spending money."

"Yeah **great day,"** Lana said sarcastically. "Lots of **fun!"**

"It was, wasn't it?" Cheryl giggled.

"One thing," Lana gritted her teeth. "What just happened… **Never** happened! Got it?"

"I got it! Jesus!" Cheryl groaned. "Like this is the **first time** I ever got into a secret war with one of my cousins!"

"I so should have gone to the ice cream museum," Lana sighed as she drove.

A short time later…

"I so should have gone to the store to get the refrigerator," Cyril sighed as he looked at the sight before him. They had returned to the Figgis Agency and were in the bullpen. Ray was passed out on the couch fast asleep. There were some empty pink paint cans scattered around but nothing in the office was painted.

"How did you know Ray would be back here?" Pam asked Krieger. "Tracking device?"

"No, just a lucky guess," Krieger shrugged.

"Awww," Pam cooed. "He's so cute when he's asleep."

"He had a big day," Krieger nodded. He yawned. "We all did."

"Why are there empty buckets of pink paint?" Pam looked at the buckets. "What was he doing with pink paint?"

"I think I'd rather wait for the evening news to tell me," Cyril groaned. "And nobody tell Ms. Archer **anything** about today!"

"I think she's going to notice that we got a new refrigerator," Pam remarked.

"Just say we got one," Cyril snapped. "Don't tell her how you and Krieger set the original on fire."

"Still mad about that huh?" Pam asked.

"Or how we got into a food fight and a brawl at Pita Margaritas and the place burned down," Cyril groaned.

"Technically we were only responsible for the brawl," Krieger added. "Not the fire in itself."

"And then we ran amok and trashed an ice cream museum," Cyril groaned. "And God only knows what happened with Lana and Cheryl. So nobody say **anything.** Unless you want another lecture from Ms. Archer about staining her stupid reputation…"

Just then Cyril's phone rang. "Speaking of the Devil herself," Cyril sighed. "Hello Ms. Archer…I…What? How the hell did you get **arrested this time**?"

"She got arrested **again**?" Pam gasped.

"Wow," Krieger blinked. "Irony calling. Line one."

"Fine I won't say anything to Ron," Cyril said into the phone. "I'll get Lana and come bail you out!"

"Hey Ron!" Pam was on her phone. "It's Pam! Guess what your wife did this time?"

"Just the perfect end to a productive day," Cyril groaned as he hung up. "A visit to the police station."

"Hey at least we got a new refrigerator," Krieger shrugged.

"As well as a few lawsuits," Cyril grumbled.


	4. Much Ado About The Figgis Agency

**Wow this crazy day just won't end huh? Plus I'm adding a little drama of my own into the mix.**

 **Much Ado About The Figgis Agency **

"So, they're dropping the charges?" Lana asked Cyril. They were waiting outside the police station.

"Yes," Cyril sighed. "Provided that Mallory never goes back to that TGI Friday's ever again. In fact, I think she's banned from any TGI Friday's after this episode."

"Mallory Archer getting arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct at a TGI Friday's," Lana shook her head. "I never thought I would see that happen. I mean I've seen her get drunk and disorderly at multi-star restaurants and high-class bars. And a few five-star hotels. But never at a TGI Friday's."

Cyril chuckled. "What would Trudy Beekman say?"

"Cyril!" Lana admonished. "It's not…" Then she started to laugh. "Okay. It's a little funny."

"A **little**?" Cyril started laughing harder. "It's freaking **hilarious**."

"Yeah well, I'm glad **something** this day was hilarious," Lana groaned.

"I don't know," Cyril snickered. "I think Ray going all Road Runner was kind of funny. In hindsight."

"I am **never** going shopping with Cheryl again," Lana groaned. "Oh head's up, Cheryl and all Tunts are banned from Mears stores. And there's a chance I might be too."

"Eh that chain is dying anyway," Cyril waved. "Honestly I don't care where you got the refrigerator as long as it works. And the police don't end up at our doorstep."

"Speaking of which," Lana heard familiar raised voices.

"I'm telling you Mallory!" Ron snapped as he brought his wife out of the police station. "This is getting way too old! And so am I for these drunken escapades of yours!"

"Oh, shut up Ron," Mallory grumbled. "My head is killing me."

"Maybe that's your _common sense_ telling you something?" Ron snapped. "I can't believe you got arrested **again**!"

"Shut up Ron!" Mallory snapped.

" **You** shut up Mallory!" Ron snapped. "Do you have **any idea** how lucky you are that you're not in jail? Actually, with the things you've done I'm amazed you haven't been thrown in the slammer long **before this!"**

"That always amazes me as well," Cyril admitted.

"Thanks a lot for ratting me out, morons!" Mallory glared at them.

"That was Pam," Cyril snapped. "And maybe if you hadn't gotten thrown in jail in the **first place** …"

"Cyril shut up!" Mallory snapped. "And why are your clothes covered in…chocolate stains?"

"Pam, Krieger and Ray…" Cyril sighed.

"Never mind. I'm sorry I asked," Mallory groaned. "I just want to go home and forget this day."

"The way you've been drinking you've been forgetting **a lot of things**!" Ron snapped. "I can't take this anymore. I just can't **take this** anymore! California was supposed to be a new beginning for us. But instead it's turned into the same insane crap it was before!"

"Ron relax," Mallory groaned. "Let's go home. Have a drink…"

"Having a drink is what got you into this mess in the **first place**!" Ron snapped. "Mallory, I have tried to be supportive. I really have. But I can't keep doing this anymore!"

"What are you saying?" Mallory asked.

"I think we should take a break from each other for a while," Ron said.

There was silence for a moment. Cyril and Lana were stunned. "You're leaving me?" Mallory was shocked. "When my son is lying in a coma you're **leaving me**?"

"This started **long before** Sterling was in a coma," Ron said. "The arrests. The drinking. The fights! The lies! The late nights! The shootings! The **fires!** "

"Technically that last one is more the idiots' fault than mine," Mallory shrugged.

"You're not even sorry about what you've put me through are you?" Ron snapped. "That's your answer for everything! It's everyone else's fault except **yours!"**

"That's because it **is** everyone's fault except **mine!** " Mallory shouted.

"I can't do this anymore!" Ron threw up his hands. "I just can't **do** **this** anymore."

"So that's it," Mallory snapped. "After all this time you're running out on me!"

"You ran out on this marriage a long time ago babe!" Ron snapped. "I just figured it out now!"

"Well fine go! **Leave!** " Mallory snapped. "Who **needs** you? I don't! Now that I think about it, you've been holding me back!"

"Oh, I've been holding you back?" Ron snapped.

"Yes!" Mallory snapped.

"I'm holding _**you**_ back?" Ron repeated. "From what? Getting a venereal disease? You know? Like a different kind of strain than your son has?"

Mallory gasped. "You bastard!"

"Well you're the expert in **that subject** , aren't you?" Ron glared at her.

"That's it!" Mallory snapped. "I want you out of my house **tonight!** Got it?"

"Technically the house is in **my name** so…" Ron gave her a look.

"Wait what?" Mallory did a double take. "Oh no…"

"You really didn't learn anything from the cocaine cartel, didn't you?" Lana groaned.

"I packed some of your things in a suitcase," Ron said. "You can pick up the rest of your stuff later this week. When I'm there so you don't get a chance to trash the place."

"Fine! I hated that damn neighborhood anyway!" Mallory snapped. "I don't even want that boring suburban dead end! It's perfect for **you**!"

"Mallory, you can stay with me as long as you need," Lana offered. "I'm sure we can…"

"Oh, Hell **no**!" Mallory snapped. "The last thing I need is a screaming toddler cramping my style! I didn't let Sterling do it. And I won't let AJ do it! I'll stay with Cyril tonight!"

"Me?" Cyril shouted. "What did I do? Why am I being punished?"

"Oh, like you haven't…" Mallory caught herself. "Been forced to sleep on a couch before! I'll make arrangements first thing in the morning."

"Good," Ron snapped. "Good luck kid. You're going to need it!"

"I don't need luck!" Mallory snapped.

"I was talking to Cyril," Ron smirked.

"Why do you hate me God?" Cyril looked upwards.

"Honestly, I've wondered that myself a few times," Lana admitted. Cyril glared at her. "What? You seem to be one of his favorite targets!"

The next morning at the Figgis Agency…

"So Ron finally kicked her out?" Pam asked Lana the next day. Ray, Cheryl and Krieger were there as well.

"Right in front of the police station," Lana sighed. "I offered Mallory a place to stay but for some reason she preferred to go to Cyril's place."

"Ooh," Krieger winced. "Poor Cyril."

"Wow," Ray blinked. "God must really hate him."

"I don't know what he did in a past life or something to deserve it but…" Lana shrugged. "I know he did **something**."

"That's pretty obvious," Ray agreed. "As well as Ron finally getting smart."

"We all knew this breakup was coming," Pam remarked before she took a sip of coffee. "I just thought Ron would have kicked her to the curb long before this."

"He took her back after the whole Yakuza thing," Cheryl nodded. "For most guys that would have been the line."

"Technically it's just a separation," Lana sighed. "Who knows? He might take her back."

"He did the first time," Pam agreed.

"I don't know," Ray groaned as he drank some coffee. "Something tells me getting thrown out of a TGI Friday's may have been the last straw."

Pam looked at Ray. "Not like getting thrown out of an ice cream museum!"

Ray glared back. "I'm not the one who was licking the walls."

"Point taken," Pam shrugged.

"Still you were a little out of control yesterday," Krieger added.

"Said the man who created a literal tidal wave of ice cream," Ray looked at him.

"Point taken," Krieger shrugged.

"Tidal wave of ice cream?" Lana asked. "Licking the walls? You guys were out of control yesterday, weren't you?"

"Uh Lana…" Cheryl giggled. "Stolen refrigerator? My dead evil cousin? The elevator closet? Robot sharks? Fighting laser chihuahuas?"

"Point taken," Lana sighed.

"You rode in an **elevator closet**?" Cyril asked. "Lucky!"

"You are definitely hanging around Cheryl too much," Lana told him. "And now that I think about it, so am I!"

"Laser **chihuahuas**?" Ray asked. "Robot **sharks?** "

"Don't ask," Lana groaned. "And don't get any ideas Krieger!"

"What about cyborg Dobermans?" Krieger asked. "How does that sound to you?"

"Like a lawsuit from the SPCA waiting to happen," Ray groaned.

"Basically, Cheryl's cousin Chole was a Bond villain on crack," Lana grumbled.

"Yeah, I can see that," Cyril admitted.

"Totally," Pam agreed.

"Good morning idiots," Mallory walked in. "I'm aware by now you know that I have decided to leave Ron."

"Was that before or after he kicked your ass to the curb?" Pam asked.

"I just have some personal things to handle and then we'll…" Mallory paused. "Oh who am I kidding? We have nothing to do in this office. I'll be in my office making some calls." She left the room.

"To what?" Cheryl snickered. "The Adopt A Bitch Shelter?"

"I HEARD THAT!" Mallory shouted.

"GOOD!" Cheryl shouted.

"Ugh…" Cyril walked in. He looked tired. "God, I need some coffee."

"Rough night huh?" Pam asked.

"You have **no idea** ," Cyril groaned as he went to the bar and found a coffee pot. "I barely slept at all last night."

"Man, it sucks that you had to sleep on the couch in your own apartment," Ray said sympathetically.

"Well…Uh…" Cyril blinked.

FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT…

" **This** is your apartment?" Mallory wrinkled her nose at the modest apartment Cyril had. "I've seen jail cells that are cheerier."

"I wasn't expecting company," Cyril told her.

"Obviously," Mallory groaned. "I'd forgotten how poor you are."

"I'm middle class!" Cyril bristled.

"This **can't** be the middle," Mallory looked around.

"You know…?" Cyril glared at her.

"I take it the bedroom is in there?" Mallory pointed to a doorway.

"Yes. Just let me make up the couch so I can sleep there," Cyril sighed.

"Who said you were sleeping on the couch?" Mallory gave him a look.

"Huh?" Cyril was confused. "I don't get it."

"Well that's irony for you," Mallory rolled her eyes. "Because tonight you are **getting it.** And so am I. Oh come on Cyril! My husband kicked me out of my house and I need something! And that dick of yours will do the trick for now."

"Wait hang on…" Cyril did a double take.

"Why the hell do you think was the **real reason** I didn't want to stay with Lana?" Mallory snapped. "Gee what were my choices? Stay with a hyperactive child? And **her** child? Or have wild secret revenge sex?"

"You mean…?" Cyril blinked.

"For a detective you're pretty slow on the uptake," Mallory groaned. "As much as I hate to admit it, you weren't half bad before. And you're the best I can get on short notice."

"Thanks, I think…" Cyril was still stunned.

"So saddle up Cowboy," Mallory went into the bedroom. "It's gonna be a rough ride!"

"Oh what the hell…?" Cyril groaned as he went into the bedroom. "Not like I haven't done this before."

FLASHFORWARD!

"Yeah, I slept on the couch," Cyril covered. "Lumpy couch. Hardly slept a wink."

"I slept pretty well," Ray shrugged.

"You passed out after a major sugar and booze buzz," Pam told him.

"Like you have never done that?" Ray snapped.

"Point taken," Pam sighed. "But seriously Ray after yesterday we should limit your sugar intake."

"Remember how crazy Pam got while she was on cocaine?" Cyril said to Lana. "Running around the mansion and buzzing?"

"Yes," Lana said.

"No," Pam said at the same time.

"God Pam!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Even **I** remember that! And my memories of that time were a little fuzzy."

"Well imagine Ray doing that in hyper speed," Cyril pointed.

"I wasn't that bad!" Ray snapped. "I didn't do that much damage!"

"Uh Ray…" Cheryl had turned on the TV and pointed.

"This is Darlene Love," The familiar African American reporter stood in front of a building. "Last night the Republican Party's LA headquarters was vandalized."

The building behind her had been painted bright pink. "Security cameras had been disabled and there is no footage of the persons responsible for this," Darlene reported.

Everyone looked at Ray. "So I did a little redecorating?" Ray sniffed. "Big deal."

"I like it," Cheryl spoke up.

"It does look better in that color," Pam agreed.

"What's going on now?" Mallory entered the room. She looked at the television. "What in God's name is that?"

"LA's Republican Headquarters," Pam told her. "That Ray painted using his super speed."

Mallory paused. "Eh, it does look better in that color."

"Thank you," Ray grinned.

"Look Mallory," Cyril sighed. "You can't stay at my apartment too long. You need to find your own place until you get this business with Ron sorted out. Seriously I can't **keep doing** what I did last night too much longer."

"Don't worry Cyril," Mallory gave him a look. "One night was **more** than enough! I just got myself a temporary apartment."

"How did you get an apartment on such short notice?" Lana asked.

"I still have some money left in secret accounts you leeches haven't drained!" Mallory snapped. "And I have some connections."

FLASHBACK TO SEVERAL MINUTES AGO!

"Hello Evelyn," Mallory said on the phone in her office. "It's Mallory. Your cousin. Say are you still doing that real estate thing? Good. And do you still own that high scale apartment complex? Good? Why? I just need a new place to live that's all."

"No, it's just for myself," Mallory sighed. "I left Ron. My husband. Five years. I admit I'm amazed we lasted that long myself."

Mallory paused as she listened. "No, he didn't kick me out! I left **him!** What? Oh, come on Evelyn. You divorced your third husband decades ago! It's not like that was going to last!"

"Besides it's close to the hospital where I can visit Sterling…My son. He's in a coma. He got shot and drowned. Yes, Evelyn he's the one that threw up on your dress at your fourth wedding. Well to be fair he was only nine at the time. And drunk…"

"Okay fine. Here's what I want. I want any penthouse that you have available at a discount rent. Fine I'll take a corner suite. Oh come on! Well what do you want? I am not going to apologize for what my idiot son did at your wedding. You divorced that bastard anyway."

"Okay here's my offer," Mallory sighed. "I can set you up with someone. His name's Cyril Figgis."

"Listen he's under fifty," Mallory explained. "Owns his own business, has the same strange fascination with elevators you have and an enormous dick. And he'll do pretty much anything you want to do in bed! What more do you want? Are you really going to say no to a one-night stand?"

"That's what I thought," Mallory nodded. "So how much do I have to pay? That's still highway robbery but…Better."

FLASHFORWARD!

"By the way Cyril," Mallory coughed. "You have a date tonight. Her name is Evelyn Antonia-Andrews. She's the owner of the apartment complex I'm moving into."

"You're pimping me out so you can get an apartment?" Cyril snapped.

"Are you really going to say no to a one-night stand?" Mallory asked.

"What time do I meet her?" Cyril sighed.

"Six PM at the Golden Gourd Restaurant on Third Street," Mallory said. "She's interested in elevators too by some weird coincidence so I guess you can have something to talk about. Although I doubt you'll be talking much by the end of the evening."

"Oh boy…" Cyril groaned.

"Well I'm sorry Cyril!" Mallory snapped. "With Sterling in a coma, you're my backup for seducing older women for me!"

"That's a scary thought," Lana groaned.

"How do you think **I feel**?" Mallory snapped. "But it's not like I have that many options to choose from!"

"You do have a point," Ray remarked.

"Oh shut your dick holster," Pam snapped. "Speedy Gay-Zoles!"

"That reminds me," Cyril said. "Ray you are going on a low sugar diet!"

"No Twinkies for you!" Krieger snapped.

"Aw man!" Ray groaned.

"What's their problem with **you?** " Mallory asked Ray.

"They're being bitches because I was having just a little fun while slightly buzzed," Ray waved. "Like they're one to lecture!"

"Tell me about it sister," Mallory grumbled.

"Yeah you really helped trash that ice cream museum!" Pam snorted. "Although you were better in that brawl this time than at the Swindon!"

"PAM!" Everyone but Mallory shouted.

"So much for keeping a secret," Ray groaned. "Three ways of communication. Telephone, television…Tell Pam!"

"I don't even care…" Mallory groaned. "I'm just going to pretend those are nonsense words."

"A lot of words are nonsense words," Cheryl spoke up.

"Particularly when **you** use them," Mallory glared at her. "But I have bigger concerns than you lot right now. My marriage is falling apart and my son is in a coma. Honestly you idiots could destroy this whole city and I wouldn't care!"

"I think you might care a little," Krieger blinked.

That was when the phone rang. Everyone looked at Cheryl. "What?" She asked.

"Worst secretary ever," Mallory groaned.

" **I'll** get it," Cyril answered the phone. "Figgis Agency. Cyril Figgis speaking. How may I…What? Uh maybe? Hang on…"

"Mallory did you make any calls yesterday?" Cyril asked Mallory.

"Only a couple," Mallory waved.

"To whom?" Cyril asked.

"I don't think that's any of your business," Mallory sniffed.

"I think it is," Cyril said. "Because one of them is on the phone. Anderson and Anderson law firm."

"I called a lot of Andersons yesterday," Mallory waved. "Who remembers?"

" **They** do!" Cyril snapped. "Well that answers **that question**!"

He went back to the phone. "Listen I didn't authorize any calls…But…But…Hang on! But I didn't…Now just a minute! I told you I didn't…OKAY FINE! SEE IF ANYONE CALLS YOU AGAIN! ASSHOLE!"

Cyril hung up the phone. "Bad news?" Cheryl asked.

"Apparently yesterday Mrs. Wiggins over here…" Cyril pointed to Mallory. "Made a lot of calls to other businesses in LA soliciting them for work. And insults."

"Oh no…" Lana groaned.

"Oh yes," Cyril glared at Mallory. "They're sending us a cease and desist notice. And if we call them again for any reason we're getting fined!"

"So, we just don't call them anymore," Mallory waved.

"Over twenty businesses are on this list," Cyril snapped. "And they are considering a class action lawsuit against us for harassment!"

"For just making a phone call?" Pam gasped.

"Apparently suing telemarketers is their specialty," Cyril groaned.

"Mallory," Lana glared. "Is there something you would like to **say** about all this?"

"Uhhh…" Mallory coughed. "This is incredibly awkward."

"Who's the world's worst secretary **now?** " Cheryl laughed.

"Still you by a mile!" Mallory shouted.

"You're a lot closer than that!" Cyril snapped.

"Let's recap our day of productivity," Ray said sarcastically. "We caused some major and minor vandalism. Destroyed our refrigerator. Got a new refrigerator. Had a food fight. Got into a few brawls. Pita Margaritas got set on fire."

"Technically we didn't set the building on fire," Pam explained to Mallory. "One of the bikers we got into a fight with did."

"Oh for the love of God…" Mallory groaned. "I'm not even surprised anymore."

"One of us got **arrested** ," Ray looked at Mallory who looked like she could murder him on the spot. "And got separated from her husband as well as kicked out of her house."

"My cousin died," Cheryl added. "A few security officers got fired."

"Our refrigerator got set **on fire**!" Cyril snapped.

"Just won't let that go, will you?" Krieger asked.

"And not only did we tick off a lot of businesses," Cyril added. "We may end up with a few lawsuits that would definitely close down this agency a lot sooner!"

"So what have we learned? If anything?" Lana sighed.

Cheryl held up her hand. "That it's better if we do nothing at all?"

"Oh God," Mallory groaned. "She's right!"

"Now we know!" Cheryl grinned.

"And knowing is a damn good reason to brush up on our resumes!" Ray added.


End file.
